


A Villain's Guide to Library Affairs

by mizunoiro



Category: OK K.O.! Let's Be Heroes
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Comedy, Domestic, Flashbacks, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Shenanigans, Some pining, step-parenting is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 46,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21835240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizunoiro/pseuds/mizunoiro
Summary: The first week after moving in with a new maybe-partner-to-be is always difficult, especially when he has six kids, you have a secret past you may have conveniently never mentioned before, the said past is about to be all over the news, and the library where you desperately need to be is under siege by all of the heroes within driving range.At least Professor Venomous gets all the excitement he missed before...Edit: Now with beta! By the amazinganonymousEDward! (You're the best!)New jokes! All sentences actually make sense! Come give it another read~
Relationships: Lord Boxman/Professor Venomous
Comments: 132
Kudos: 134





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InkDrawnDreamer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkDrawnDreamer/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the spirit of holiday miracles, the Voxman exchange had me, a long-time permanent library resident, write a fic for a librarian. There was only ever one way the plot could go. :) Almost all of the main characters of OK KO make appearances, but I swear that the story is about Boxy and PV getting together. My giftee also wanted stepfamily fluff, Laserblast & Lad Boxman, and general scheming, so I hope they’ll be happy.
> 
> A million thanks to [anonymousEDward](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymousEDward/pseuds/anonymousEDward) who volunteered to beta the fic. I'm endlessly grateful for all the time, attention, patience, fun comments, new jokes and great tips I received. You're the best!

“It is incredible how easily people forget that there’s always a clock ticking down to the next disaster,” deadpanned a voice inside Venomous’s echoing, dissociating mind. “Until it stops.”

He stared blankly at the third page of Villain Weekly. He was sure he must have had a nice morning. He probably got up and had a slightly charred breakfast. He must have chatted with Boxman and Fink. She must have brought him the updates on the greenhouse and lab that were being built behind the newly acquired Boxmore. It surely had been lovely and he must have come to his office to get started on the day’s work. But he didn’t know. That had been before he opened the newspaper and he didn’t remember it anymore.

“I was careless,” resounded an increasingly choked voice in his head. “I should have been more thorough. This should have never happened. Especially not now.”

He curled up in his office chair and covered his face with clammy palms, trying to concentrate on his breathing, on the here and now and the need to _do_ something. 

Anything.

“But who would have thought… Who would have thought. The library, of all places,” whispered the fading voice of dissociation.

“I’m cob-darn toast,” he said out loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I love getting comments, but writing them is hard, so I will post some pro!tips for writing fic comments in every chapter. You don't need to take them seriously, though. ;)


	2. Sunday: No rest for the wicked

A few factory floors and worlds of misery away, Boxman skipped and twirled and shouted orders on his way to his own lab.

“Ernesto! Get in touch with those cheap industrial diamond suppliers! See how much they have in stock! Raymond! Get the small forge going! Shannon! Get me our files on glorb-mining! Darrell! Take over the factory floor, get it ready for production! Jethro-”

“I AM JETHRO!” The robot materialized right in front of his father, almost tripping him. Boxman paused.

“You’re doing great, Jethro, keep at it,” he finally said and patted the smug robot.

Just then, he spotted a familiar lab coat at the far end of the floor.

“Oh, hey, PV! You’re not gonna believe what I got here!” He shouted and waved the paper he had been clutching. Venomous, after a short hesitation, redirected his steps to meet him.

“Hey, Boxman. That’s... not the newspaper, is it?” he asked casually, hands in his pockets.

“It’s an email from Billiam and you just won’t believe this! He wants to place an order for an entire brigade of worker robots, with a glorb-mining profile!” Boxman chattered away. “We’ll have to give him a design and specs he likes first, of course, but, well, who are we kidding, who else is there who can do this sort of thing? We’ll be rich! Well, rich-er, in your case. Boxmore’s barely even reopened and-”

“Is that so? Mining seems to be more your profile than mine, though.” He took the email printout and glanced over it. “So I guess I’ll be leaving this one mostly to you?”

“Well, actually, he did order them to have the, uhm, usual feature of interest which you designed for him, soooo...”

“Ah. He ordered the disturbingly pert butts again.”

“He ordered the disturbing butts again,” agreed Boxman with a sigh. They shared a knowing look. “Although it’s kind of a relief, to be honest. I always wondered if you designed them that way cos it was your thing.”

“Ew. I’m appalled that you’d think such a thing about me Boxman. Appalled.”

“He-heh, sorry, PV.” 

“I prefer much more… _ample_ designs, actually,” Venomous went for the kill, flashing his best villain smile, and watched in quiet glee how Boxman gradually went red and gently puffed steam from under his collar. _So cute..._

A stack of files magically popped up between them accompanied by a cheerful “Here you go, dad!” and a beaming Shannon. “Are you two going to make us a new sibling?”

“WHUOAT” squeaked Boxman while Venomous stifled a laugh in his hand.

“Are you building a new kind of robot?” Shannon cocked her head curiously.

“Oh. Ah. N-no. Well, yes… but it’s just a mining robot for Billiam, n-not like you.”

“Coach, the forge is ready! Anything else?”

“They’ll email us the report about the industrial diamonds this afternoon.” 

“I AM JETHRO!”

Seeing that there was about to be another flurry of activity, Venomous managed to grab Boxman by the elbow just in time and drag him a few steps aside. The man looked up at him quizzically. 

“Seeing as you’re about to be so busy for a while, I had an idea I wanted to run by you.”

“Alright? What is it?”

“It’s a big contract, which I’m absolutely sure we’ll land, so I thought, well, a celebration is in order. We could… Oh, I don’t know… attack the plaza, maybe? All of us together?”

“Oh, PV! What a lovely idea!”

“And then I thought,” Venomous quickly continued after being put down from a spinning hug, “that it’ll be even better if we win this time! So,” he wrapped an arm around Boxman’s shoulders conspiratorially, “while you’re busy with the initial schematics, why don’t I take the robot bunch away for a bit of practice? We can attack something else, try out some teamwork, techniques, any shiny new weapons upgrades...” 

“Oh. Well, I guess you have a point there, you’ve only ever attacked the plaza once, and then it was just us two and Fink.” Boxman tapped his lips with a talon and frowned in thought. “But… are you sure you’re ready for this, PV?”

“Hm? Well of course,” Venomous preened. “It’ll be a blast. Hopefully several.”

Boxman looked up at him with a shiny stare he wasn’t sure how he’d earned.

“I’m so glad you think so, PV. Yes, I’ve also been thinking that it’ll be good for you to spend some time alone with my children.”

 _Say what? Oh Cob, oops.._.

“You’ll be seeing so much of each other now,” continued an enthusiastic Boxman, “and they still barely know you. Or you, them! And attacking things together is such a great way to bond!”

_Oh Cob, I forgot that the robots here in the factory are his literal children, not just the service robots he sells._

But before he could think of any way to avert the trainwreck that his impromptu plan was turning into, his partner, uhm, _business_ partner, of course, had called over all of his kids (several of some) and given them a thoughtful talk about Venomous’s idea. It went like this:

“Children, you’re Professor Venomous’s for the day. Be good, ok? Daddy loves ya! Bye!”

And then, before he could get in a word edgewise, Venomous was suddenly alone against a baker’s dozen of unblinking robotic eyes.

He really had not thought this through, he knew, as he sweated and fought not to take a step back and disappear at the same high speed Boxman had. He took a deep breath and smiled shakily.

“Heeey, how are you doing, kiddos?” He winced at that. The robots winced back. At least they had that much in common.

_OhCobOhCob. It’s too soon. I’m not ready._

“I… have been meaning to spend some time with you all, to get to know you...” _Just not like this_ , he kicked himself mentally. “I, I had some ideas about what we could do together.”

He really did. They were in his work notebook. The first entry read: “download boxbot schematics; see what parts can be replaced with biological ones; nota bene: redesign green nosy robot’s nose? beak? It’s an abomination. Why couldn’t it have Boxy’s cute button of a nose?” (The latter part of the note was thickly scratched through.) In hindsight, that was a monstrous note to write about his sort-of hopefully-one-day stepchildren. _Oh, Cob._

“Maybe we can get to know each other first? Over breakfast, maybe?”

“Yeaaaah, it’s noon and we’re almost fully charged,” said a red robot.

“Oh. Of course. Is… is there something you want to know about me?” He tried to sound cheerful, happy to have stumbled on a good question.

“Professor, we all have your POW statistics, public POINT record, villain profile and full medical data downloaded. Are there any updates on those?” One… Ernesto? said from the back.

“Oh. Ok. Wait. Why do you have my medical data?”

“We have the data of all the biological forms in Boxmore in case one of them needs first aid, professor. Safety first!” The green nosy one chimed in. 

With chilling horror, Venomous realized he knew only Ernesto’s name, because he had helped with the legal documents for the acquisition, and Jethro’s, for obvious reasons. He was pretty sure he had never seen the yellow catty one before.

“Ah. Of course.” He kept on sweating. “Sooo how about you introduce yourselves then?”

“You have files with all of our specs. Didn’t you read them?” The orange one asked with a pout that reminded him a lot of Fink when she thought someone was being an idiot.

“I do? I mean. Yeah. Of course. Fink must have forgotten to give them to me, he-heh.” _Outstanding job, Venomous, blame the 6-11 year old kid._

“Ok, enough of this,” one of the red ones suddenly cut in, taking a step forward. Boy did he look angry. “I have a _question_.”

“Alright! Great! Let’s hear it!” Venomous said, with a slightly manic smile.

“Are you gonna be our new daddy?”

For the second time in as many hours, Venomous’s mind retreated into his Dissociation Palace and blamed him for all of his life choices. With a supreme effort and strength forged through a thousand battles of getting Fink to stop asking uncomfortable questions, he called forth his old, old hero smile and shouted:

“I have the key to the weapons vault and we’re going to blow stuff up all day! Who’s with me?”

For a horrible moment there was silence and he thought he would actually have to answer, but then a red robot and the orange pouty one started to squeal, which was soon joined by “I AM JETHRO” and “Mikayla!” ( _Mikayla, gotta remember that one, Mikayla_ ) and some chatter. Venomous finally took a breath.

“Alright everyone, to the vault! Follow me!” He said with fresh confidence and shaky legs. 

The robots didn’t follow. _Oh, Cob. Now what?_

“Professor,” Ernesto faked a cough and pointed. “Vault’s that way.”

Venomous practically sprinted that way.

—-

Across the highway, a certain little hero-in-training also sprinted to get into his mother’s car. Enid and Rad were already inside when he hopped in the front seat.

“Ok, mom! I’m ready! Let’s go! Where are we going, again?”

“To the city square, K.O. Everyone else must already be there, so put on your seatbelts!” Carol said, as she started the car.

“Thanks for driving us, Carol,” said Enid from the back.

“Yeah, and thanks for coming with us,” added Rad. “I can’t believe that weirdo Billiam Milliam is trying to pull off something like this! He deserves the biggest collective punch in his shiny bronzed face!”

“Sooo… why isn’t anyone punching him?” K.O. asked. “Isn’t that what we usually do to villains?”

“Well, you see, K.O., when villains are fighting us all close and personal, like Boxman and his robots, they deserve a good thrashing. But when the rich and snobby villains like Billiam use the law against us, it’s more difficult to stop them,” Enid explained, looking out the window.

“Oh. And how do we do that?”

“It’s called a peaceful protest, sweetie,” said Carol. “It’s when a lot of people come together to show that they want to protect something. It’s important to show support for the things that matter to us! It’s the essence of being a hero.” K.O. gave her a starry-eyed look.

“So that’s what you meant when you said that everyone at the protest today will be a hero? Because by protecting what’s important to them they improve the world for everyone and defeat the evil goals of villains through their combined strength, despite individually being ordinary citizens?” K.O. was practically shining.

“Uhm. Yeeaah, that too,” Carol laughed in embarrassment after staring at her offspring in shocked silence for a second. “But what I mostly meant was that someone posted about it on the FaceBox hero group and practically all the heroes of the Neutral Zone rsvp-ed that they’ll be there.” She smiled apologetically.

“Oh,” he said and thought for a moment. “That’s even cooler! I’ll meet all of my idols!” He punch-kicked the air.

“Just don’t forget we’re there for the library, sweetie, not for POW-card signing.” She ruffled his hair. “Ah, it sure takes me back. I used to spend so many nights there studying for my hero exams. The librarian always had the best book suggestions!”

“Yeah!” Rad exclaimed. “He-heh, when I was little, and my family had just moved here, I couldn’t speak the language very well. My parents signed me up for a kids’ reading group and the librarian always spent some extra time with me, helping me with reading, and speaking, and… oh man, they were nice!”

“That’s so sweet, Radicles!” Carol exclaimed and K.O. nodded in agreement. “And you, Enid? Why did you decide to come?”

“Huh? Oh. Uhm.” She squirmed a bit. “Cos Mr. Gar gives a paid day off to everyone who wants to go to protest.”

“Well, I suppose every supporter counts!” Carol chirped. “I’m sure that Billiam, for one, doesn’t have any fellow villains to support him!” she said cheerfully, to a chorus of agreement from the kids.

The Boxmore promotional van, also full of cheering robotic kids, passed them and sped on the empty highway in the same direction.

“Or maybe he does!”

\---

Somewhere, a red-haired librarian sneezed twice, sniffed in surprise, and went on tacking a poster onto the library stack that read “Please observe the silence. Violators will be promptly subjected to quiet disdain.”

—-

Back at Boxmore, Fink entered Venomous’s new office with her clipboard and a few reports and files that she had spent the morning preparing, including the purple robot’s budget adjustment for her boss’s new biochemistry lab.

She left the stack on the desk and turned around to survey the office. Most of the stuff salvaged from their old home was unpacked, lying haphazardly in big cardboard boxes and still smelling slightly of singed plastic and paper. She might as well get some arranging done while Boss and the robot morons were out on… whatever weird thing they were doing together. _Ugh._

Stupid Boss had just ran off with them, without even saying a word to her! It had taken barging into Boxboss’s lab to find out he was out with the robots, of all things! Boxboss had offered for her to stay and help him, but she refused. It’d be better get some work done and shame Boss when he got back from messing around with those dumb toasters. _Yes._

In the half-empty room, she suddenly noticed the Villain Weekly lying on the floor. It was Boxboss’s usual newspaper, so she picked it up. It was open to page three and the headline made her stop and stare. Her eyes darted through the article:

_Among completely uncalled-for protests of heroically-inclined citizens, the legal battle continues between renowned billionaire and a negative twelve level villain Billiam Milliam and Lakewood Library over the ownership of the land the building stands on._

_As previously reported, Mr. Milliam, who has acquired the land completely legally for 1 techno during a difficult political time, has plans to demolish the library and develop the area for glorb-mining, which would be an incredible contribution to the villain industry and is in no way, shape, or form hazardous to the public health, no matter what some so-called scientists have suggested._

_In retaliation, Lakewood Library has petitioned the World Government and started a donation drive to buy back the land.The library committee plans to supplement the donations with a brand-new exhibition of never-before seen video material of POINT during its most bothersome era that ended 6-11 years ago. The recently discovered tapes in the library archives contain very rare footage which is certain to bring in crowds of hero-worshippers and a lot of donations._

_Some of the highlights that Villain Weekly has discovered so far to be in the collection are: a series of propaganda speeches from Foxtail; a tour of POINT headquarters (sans restricted areas, unfortunately) with Dr. Greyman; a propaganda workout routine for aspiring heroes with Silver Spark; and most sensationally - a video from superhero Laserblast’s last months of life in which he appears unmasked for the first and only time on record._

“Oh, Boss,” whispered Fink and angrily crumpled the newspaper into a ball. “I TOLD you to get a move on before it comes back to bite you in the rattle!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here's fic comment writing pro!tip 1:
> 
> Tell me where, when, in what circumstances, etc you’re reading this fic. It fascinates me to know how people read fics. Just make sure to keep the description’s rating no higher than that of the fic itself!


	3. Still Sunday: The issues of library access (or lack thereof)

Librarian Shamrock, more than a little shaken, was tacking new posters around the library. They read “Ask at the counter! Now you can borrow for free: pens, pencils, markers, laptops, phone and battery chargers, portable batteries, portable lasers, engines, satellite dishes, light- and mid-grade siege weapons, radiation-free nukes, teapots and cupcake baking trays. Your library is always happy to help!”

_Six hours earlier…_

“Great Cob that is in the Heavenly Corn Syrup.” Venomous got out of the van and stared wide-eyed at the veritable sea of heroes lapping at the shores of Lakewood Library. “Are they handing out free POW level upgrades here? What’s all this?”

“Ehm, Professor, when you said “blow stuff up,” we didn’t realize there’d be so many heroes to fight, too.” Ernesto poked his index fingers together in a gesture adorably reminiscent of Boxman. _Only Boxman looks cuter when he does it._

“Of course we’re not going to fight all of them!” He bit his lip and rummaged around the driver’s seat. After a moment, he flapped on a baseball hat with the Boxmore logo, put on his designer sunglasses and chucked his lab coat. “Did any of you install projectile weapons?”

Raymond and Shannon gingerly raised their hands, accompanied by an insistent “I AM JETHRO.” At least Venomous hoped that they were Raymond and Shannon. He had spent the entire trip eavesdropping on their excited conversation, sneaking peeks at them in the rearview mirror, sweating and trying to remember who called whom by which name (aside from boltface, eggbrain, chimney man, etc).

“Ok, great. So now, I want to see some good teamwork!” He said and clapped his hands together, trying hard to seem unbothered. 

_And Cob was that a thing I hoped to never have to say again after leaving POINT._

“What we’re going to do is split in two teams. All of you are going to sneak closer to that building over there and go around the back to the right-hand side of the building. The stacks are there.” He pointed at the side of the library building. 

“Once you’re in position, those of you with projectiles will fire all they got for maximum damage. The other three will fight off any heroes too quick to react. Then, you’ll all make off towards the park behind the library,” and he pointed to the other side, where some of the park was visible. 

“Make sure you lose all pursuit among the trees, and double back here. I’ll be waiting for you with the getaway van. Is the plan clear?”

The robots stared at him, silent and attentive, for a moment. Venomous had just enough time to think “Maybe we can still salvage this, after all...”

And then Darrell screamed “CHAAAAAAAARGE” and, well, charged.

—

“Wooow, this is the biggest melee I’ve ever seen,” said Enid, gawking out the car window as they turned into the city square.

“It’s the biggest melee _I’ve_ ever seen,” said Carol, sounding impressed. 

“If we hurry we can still join in the fun,” enthused Rad.

“Mom, are “peaceful protests” supposed to look like this?” asked K.O. very reasonably.

“No, sweetie, not in theory. I wonder what happened… Ah, look there!”

“Thiiiiiiiis is Dynamite Watkins reporting live for Action News!” There was a scream and a blast and everyone’s favorite reporter appeared just a little ahead of them. 

“The peaceful protest in front of Lakewood Library turned less peaceful after Boxmore dispatched robots and an unidentified operative to attack the peacefully protesting and completely defenseless heroes gathered here.” The reporter struck one of her trademark dynamic poses and pointed to the completely defenseless and armed to the teeth heroes fighting behind her.

“The move is believed to be an attempt to destroy the library and thus end the stand-off between library supporters and Billiam Milliam’s mining venture. What will be in store for the peaceful and defenseless citizens of Lakewood,” she asked, to the background of what looked suspiciously like a mushroom cloud, “if Billiam Milliam receives the cooperation of the wider villain community, we ask? Well stay tuned to fiiiiiiind out!”

She ended the report with a power pose, after which she and her team merrily jumped into the melee, allegedly to report from the heart of the action.

“Right,” said Carol and punched her palm. “We can’t have any of that. Time to put some of those single parent organizational superpowers to public use.” 

Rad and Enid exchanged a wary look.

“Enid, we’ll need tea! Rad, cupcakes! Go! And you, K.O., follow me and prepare to be _so very_ cute!” Carol ordered with a voice fit for commanding armies.

—-

Coming down from an adrenaline high was always tough, but this time the carnage of the Boxmore robots made Venomous feel suddenly cold and sick.

“They’re just robots, Venomous, get a grip,” he scolded himself as he rubbed some blood off his forehead.

At the side of the park behind the library, Shannon was trying to screw a broken brain dome back onto Darrell and Ernesto was carrying most of Mikayla and his own arm. There were fizzing wires everywhere. Raymond and Jethro were either in scrap or had run away. 

_Oh Cob, they’re not “just robots,” they are the originals. They are his literal children. What have I done?_

“Hey, Shannon! Let me help,” he said, scuttling over to the two. “I’m sure Darrell will be fine!” He tried to be cheerful.

“Oh. Of course I will be,” said Darrell, slurring slightly.

“Yeah, we’ve all seen worse,” said Shannon brightly. “Everything considered, they were pretty easy on us.” Venomous had to admire her for trying to cheer up her brother when he was so badly damaged.

“Just, just tell me what I can do,” he choked out. They were both so brave.

“Uhm. I guess you can tell dad we… tried our best?” Darrell suggested, slouching slightly to one side. 

_Oh Cob, they think about making their dad proud even when they’re so injured._

“Of course I will. He will be so proud of you,” Venomous said and found Darrell’s hand despite his blurring vision. He squeezed it reassuringly. 

“He will?” Ernesto asked doubtfully. He had wobbled closer, still holding the catty… _Mikayla_ , Venomous corrected himself.

“Certainly. And I, I’m sure you’ll all be fine. He’ll fix you. We just have to get you all back home now, and everything will be fine,” Venomous tried to reassure them and himself in a voice full of barely contained panic. He wondered if giving them all a hug would be too much, too soon. “And then we can go shopping, or, or anything you want to do!”

“Oh. Ok then. Let’s be off. Raymond must be getting impatient by now,” said Shannon. Venomous was about to ask where Raymond was when-

BOOM

“What in Cob’s popping popcorn!!” He screamed in terror as Darrell exploded. “No! Darrell! No!”

BOOM

“Oh Cob’s green cornfields! Shannon!” He sobbed.

BOOM

“Ernesto! Mikayla! What’s happening?? _Oh Cob_ what have I _done_??”

But he was now all alone among a pile of gently smoking scrap metal without any trace of life in it…

—-

Ten minutes later, a Boxmore box dropped by from a wormhole and deposited all of the robots near the van they had used to come the first time.

Another ten minutes later, they managed to locate Venomous. He was curled into a ball, staring into nothing and hugging a blue fire hydrant apparently named Jethro.

“I AM JETHRO!” an indignant Jethro corrected him.

“Wh-what…” Venomous managed to turn bloodshot eyes to the bunch of gawking robots. “A-are you alive?”

“Uhm. Do you mean that in the philosophical sense, professor?” Ernesto asked.

“Nevermind that, are _you…_ alright?” Shannon asked with a squint.

“But-but I saw you explode,” he objected with a haunted tone.

“Duh. How else would we get new undamaged bodies?” Darrell huffed.

“Mikayla!”

“Yes, exactly,” Ernesto agreed. “We’re hive-minds, we can get new bodies anytime.”

Venomous stared.

“Professor, perhaps we should get you off the lawn.” Ernesto stepped in and gently disconnected Venomous from the fire hydrant. “My database says that in such cases, biological forms benefit from rest and sustenance.”

The robots got him on his badly wobbling feet and directed him with surprising gentleness to a restaurant. After some cake, machine oil, and enough quiet conversation to give Venomous time to somewhat collect himself and to wipe off his running eyeliner, Darrell twirled his thumbs and casually asked:

“So you actually thought we were dead, huh.”

“I saw you explode," Venomous said tonelessly, still numb and a little in shock.

“Well, perhaps it was mentioned in the files Fink didn’t give you?” Raymond said helpfully. 

_The son-of-a-hen has programmed his robots not only to explode on unsuspecting business partners, but to sass them as well. He’ll pay for this._

“I shall be memorizing those files by heart tonight,” Venomous swore.

Awkward silence reigned for a bit of an eternity.

“Sooo what do we attack now? You said we’d be blowing stuff up all day today,” Shannon reminded him.

“Sorry kids, I’m afraid I’ve had all the explosions I can take for one day.”

“Oh. So we just go back home?” Ernesto seemed relieved, Venomous noted, but his siblings drooped. He _had_ promised them a day of fun and destruction, after all.

And just like that, he was back in warm, familiar waters. He might not be the best boss, but he was an adult, and Fink had certainly taught him how to handle these sorts of situations like a mature person.

“We go shopping. It’s all on me.” He waved a wad of cash in the air to a chorus of cheers.

The rest of the afternoon was spent going around the malls and shops of Lakewood. The robots were unexpectedly… restrained, if not exactly well-behaved. Apparently, Boxman had never taken them all out shopping like this and they were adorably shy when they dragged one item or another to him to get his approval. He mostly sat back and ooh-ed and aah-ed at the appropriate places and paid for everything, glad to have gotten off so lightly. 

It also gave him time to reflect.

—-

Everything seemed to go smoothly, until it was time to head back to Boxmore and a slightly worrying silence reigned at the back of the van. Venomous valiantly ignored it for as long as he could, until they were almost back home.

“Everything alright back there?”

He got some shuffling and vague yeah-s. The rearview mirror showed that they were fiddling with their new stuff or exchanging meaningful looks.

“Nobody’s going to explode, right?”

A vague collection of no-s.

“You can talk to me, you know.” _Oh Cob, when has this line worked on anyone ever? No teenager would ever talk to an adult just because he-_

“So. _Are_ you gonna be our new dad?” _Touche. Ernesto is_ not _a teenager._

“Look, kids, surely your dad must have talked to you about this? You should trust what he said.”

“Yeah, we asked, and he answered us the first time and didn’t beat around the bush!” Darrell crossed his arms.

“He did?” Venomous squeaked. “What did he say?” _Of course he said no, you dummy. What else could he say. There’s… there’s no way he said anything else. Right?_

“Doesn’t matter. We’re asking _you_.” Shannon mimicked her brother.

“Yes. Surely, you must have talked to him about this?” Raymond said in what was actually a very good imitation of Venomous himself.

He sighed and they drove in silence until the van was safely parked in the Boxmore garage.

“We are… official business partners,” he finally said, not looking at the robots in the back. He was suddenly too tired to keep dodging. “We can only become something else if your father and I discuss it and decide on it together. If and only if that happens, you and Fink will be the first ones to know. I promise.”

The awkward silence was just about what he had expected. He didn’t know what else to offer. It was the truth. Besides, at the rate he was carrying on, they would never have to worry about him being any part of their family. He sighed.

“Now off to your rooms you go.” 

He herded out the robots, clutching their shopping bags tightly, and saw them off to their rooms. 

“Recharge well! You can show your presents to your dad tomorrow.”

When the chorus of good night-s and see you tomorrow-s had dwindled and the doors had closed, Venomous sighed and rubbed his forehead. Cob, he was tired.

But before the adrenaline of the day wore off, he had one more terrifying thing to do.

—-

He found Boxman by the small forge, surrounded by various scattered machine parts, some of which were obviously recently modified. A bunch of blueprints and notes were tacked to a mobile board nearby and Boxman himself was gingerly pouring something shiny and golden into a complicated mold. Venomous knew it was delicate work and decided to wait until it was done.

As soon as it was, Boxman chucked the goggles and gauntlets and started to undo his protective suit. Venomous, from where he was propped against a crate, quietly admired the mussed green hair, the light sheen of sweat, the sort-of tired but very excited expression on his face… He couldn’t help smiling. Boxman’s enthusiasm was the most contagious thing he had ever encountered. It suited him. He looked so cute like that…

And then Boxman took off the rest of the suit, revealing a dirty tank top, old pants and _so much gleaming naked skin and bulging muscles Oh Cob stay focused Venomous that’s not for you._

“Hey, Boxman!” He said quickly, trying to get his brain out of the gutters. “So, the robot children explode, huh?”

“Oh. Welcome back! Wait. You didn’t know?” Boxman made an embarrassed face and poked his index fingers together. “I’m sure I put it in their-“

“If one more person mentions their profiles to me ever again, I’m selling Boxmore to POINT,” he deadpanned.

“If you didn’t know before, then, uh, how did you find out that they explode, exactly?”

Right. Back to business. It was just so easy to forget all of his worries around Boxman that he’d already forgotten why he was there. Maybe… maybe he had to have more faith in that feeling, a part of him thought guiltily.

“Yes, about that...” It was his turn to look embarrassed and rub his neck. “I… may have… run into some heroes. Such as the plaza brats.”

“But you told me you weren’t going to attack the plaza!” The look of betrayal on Boxman’s face made Venomous want to do something drastic, such as apologize. “And how did they defeat all of my robots?”

“Boxman! I wouldn’t attack the plaza without you, you know that.” He said, a little hurt at the accusation. “And, uhm, there were more heroes than just them.”

“More?”

“We maaaay have run into a city square full of them, actually,” he admitted, realizing just how ridiculous that sounded. Boxman just plopped on top of an anvil, swung a towel over his neck and scowled up at him very expectantly. 

Venomous sighed and told him everything.

“Wow, PV,” was all Boxman could say.

“It was just as bad as it sounds, yes. But look, that’s not the worst of it.”

“There’s more?”

“Well, it’s about your children.” He stammered. “I mean, not them, but me… I…” _Oh Cob. How do you apologize to a father for getting his six children exploded because you couldn’t clean up your own mess properly?_

Boxman’s face darkened and he looked down. 

“It’s Ok, PV. I know they’re a handful.” Boxman said before he could continue, still looking at his own feet. “Thanks for trying anyway!” The cheerfulness sounded flat. “I’ll make sure they don’t bother you again. It’s fine, it’s a big factory, plenty of work to do everywhere!”

“What? No, Boxman, that’s not what I-“ He made to grab Boxman’s shoulder, but stopped.

“It really is no trouble at all, PV, I expected it anyway.” Boxman slid off his anvil and made for the door.

_Cob’s cobbles, just open your mouth and talk_ , said a voice in his head that sounded a lot like Fink. 

“That’s not it!” He shouted. “Apart from exploding, your children are… well, ok, they are a handful, but that’s fine! I knew that! And I did mean to take them shopping and spend time with them and all that stuff, only…”

Boxman and his snaggletooth were finally looking at him. Time to confess.

“Only the real reason I took them out today was because I wanted them to attack the library for me.” It all came gushing out. “And I didn’t think it through at all. I didn’t think about how little we know each other, I didn’t think they might be in danger, I certainly didn’t think we’d run into a small nation of heroes and… Cob, I didn’t even think to memorize their names before we went! And I’m sorry!” 

“Why didn’t you just say so?” Boxman asked carefully, after a small pause. “I mean, you can attack whatever you want, but if you had just told me, I could have helped?” 

“Because… I didn’t want to tell you why I needed the library attacked.” He tried to give a defiant look, but he suspected it came out scared.

Boxman tapped a talon to his lips.

“So you snuck out my kids for a secret mission, got into a brawl with a huge bunch of heroes, got the poop kicked out of you, went shopping, and only _then_ came back home to tell me all that?”

When he put it like that, Venomous found he needed to sit down. He flopped on the recently vacated anvil and rubbed his face, trying to suppress the bitter taste in his mouth. It was the same old story. He was just not meant to be with other people. No matter what he tried to do, someone else on his team always-

“Glad you’re already having so much fun, PV!” Boxman flashed him a brilliant smile and gave him a thumbs-up. 

“...You’re… Are you being sarcastic?”

“Huh? No, why would I be?”

“The kids exploded.”

“Pfffsh, they explode all the time.”

“I lied to you.”

“Well, not really, you did exactly what you said you would do.”

“Aren’t you going to ask why I even did all that?” Venomous was starting to panic. This was way too easy and not at all what he had braced for.

“PV…” Boxman gave him a much softer look. “You don’t get to our age in the world of villainy without piling up some… secrets. If you needed to do it, you had a reason. I get it.”

“Boxman,” he managed, in a whisper.

“I’d like to help next time, though, so just give me the heads-up, Ok? I can herd the kids for you?” Boxman said, smiling hopefully. It almost hurt with relief to see him like that.

_It’s alright. Boxman is nothing like my former teammates. I can tell him. I can tell him the truth. I can at least try. Just this once._

And then it all poured out of him, as if the truth had been waiting all along just for that exact smile.

“There’s a tape in the library archives, and they’re going to exhibit it soon. The whole world is going to see it, and I, I just, I cannot let that happen. It doesn’t bear thinking about. I need it destroyed, with or without the library, I don’t care.” 

Venomous shook his head and rubbed his face. “But there are heroes protesting against something or other outside of it, and my doomsday ray broke when you blew up my house, so now I have nothing to attack with other than your robots and myself, and I-“ he took a deep breath at the sudden realization. 

“And I need help,” he finished quietly.

“Hey, PV, calm down,” Boxman said and rubbed his arm with a worried expression. “It’s ok, we’ll find a way to get you your tape. And!” He added before Venomous could say anything, “You don’t have to tell me what’s on it if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t think… I’m ready to do that. Yet.” He gulped.

“And that’s Ok.” Boxman offered a surprisingly reassuring smile and rubbed his arm again. His hand was strong and warm. “What does it look like?”

“It’s just an old tape, one of those that look like bricks. It would be part of a collection. I guess they must be keeping it somewhere safe until all of the material is ready for the exhibition, like the closed stacks at the back.”

“Is it a big collection? Can we just grab the whole thing?”

“I’m really not sure. I only need the tape that has… Laserblast on it.”

Venomous could feel the tiny little twitch of Boxman’s fingers when he mentioned the name. He bit his lip.

“Laserblast?” Boxman repeated in a strange, almost inquisitive tone of voice.

“Yeah,” murmured Venomous. “Laserblast.”

“Alright then,” he said after a tiny pause. “How about we get some rest for now and see what we can do tomorrow?”

“Ok.” Venomous gratefully patted the hand that was still on his forearm and tried to smile. Boxman smiled back when their eyes met and squeezed reassuringly. It did feel a lot better to get all of that off his chest, actually. The warmth of the forge and of Boxman’s hand finally made him start to relax and forget the panic that had him running all day. Boxman always had that soothing effect on him. He wished they were at a point where he could just curl up next to him and sleep… “Alright then. I’ll just go tuck in Fink and- OH COB”

“What? What happened?”

“ _Fink_! I forgot Fink!”

“Where??”

“I don’t know! Here??”

“Shut up Boss, trying to sleep,” came a grumble from a pile of what Venomous had assumed to be forgotten blankets from all-nighters past.

“Fink!” He pounced on the pile. “I’m so sorry Fink, Boss is here now, I’m so glad you’re fine.” He continued murmuring to her as he picked her up and cradled her against his chest. She mumbled something indistinct, stuck her cold nose against his neck and seemed to go right back to sleep.

“She’s fine, PV. She did some paperwork and helped set up your new office, then we had a late lunch with a lot of cheese, and after that I got her to help me with some work.”

“She helped you with work?” Venomous stared. It had been a day of too many shocks.

“He-heh, funny story actually,” Boxman said to his left foot, “there was this huge pile of scrap parts that I needed disassembled to bits for the mining prototype and she was very… motivated to help. Did a real number on them.”

“Motivated.”

“She, he-heh, may have called some of the parts “boss” as she was smashing the living daylights out of them, so, ehm, maybe you should put some time aside for her tomorrow.” He waved his hands at him. “Not that I’m telling you how to raise her or anything, we had a great time together today!”

Venomous couldn’t help noticing some fresh bite-marks on one flailing limb and raised a suspicious eyebrow.

“That… I guess I deserved that,” he said, looking down at Fink, who was safely tucked in his arms. “Thanks for looking after her.”

“Don’t mention it, PV. And let’s do some good scheming together tomorrow, alright?” He patted his arm. “I’ll think of some way we can get to your tape, I promise.”

“You’re just gonna look it up on the internet, aren’t ya, Boxboss,” mumbled Fink.

“Huh?”

“It’s a public library. Its floor plans and content are literally on its website,” she explained, her face still tucked against her boss’s neck.

“Ooooh,” the two evil geniuses said intelligently as they looked at each other with suddenly gleaming eyes.

—-

Boxman closed the door to his bedroom and leaned on it for a moment.

“Laserblast, eh?” he said quietly to the darkness in general. “Now there’s a blast from the past. Heh. No pun intended.” 

His eyes lingered on his old closet for a moment before he flipped on the lights, and businesslike as ever, started to prepare for a quick shower and bed. He had promised PV he’d help, mining prototype or not, and he wasn’t going to let a few secrets and useless old memories stop him. Tomorrow was a new day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic comment writing pro!tip 2:  
> If I was your evil literature and/or language teacher from school making you retell this story, which bit would you actually remember? Copy and paste it in the comments and go read another fic to drown out the memories from school!


	4. Monday: In the library stacks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want it noted that in the show, Carol and Laserblast met when she literally shoved a finger up his… nose. That scene fills me with joy.
> 
> Also, the cobnut is a kind of hazelnut native to Europe.

Librarian Shamrock, one forearm bandaged, was placidly tacking up a brand-new poster. It had a security camera picture of a snarling green mouse-child holding a book titled “Creative Cursing” and the caption “Children left unattended will be given sugar and taught naughty words. Be warned!” They looked it over once and nodded, satisfied. They thought it came out quite well, all things considered.

Twelve hours earlier...

… it was way too early for Venomous’s mind to be that deep in the gutter, and yet there it was, he thought as it sunk even deeper. He was still half-asleep, wrapped in a fluffy house robe and cradling a cup of tea, whereas Boxman was the kind of person who seemed to have been born with caffeine in the blood. So, naturally he did not own any coffee.

What he did own was a yellow T-shirt that read “Chicken Fair Winner 20XX,” a pair of tighty-whities, and adorable little fluffy socks tucked into yellow chicken-shaped slippers. Venomous groaned at the things his mind was suggesting he could do with all of those things, and he tried so very hard to stay focused. On anything other than the tighty-whities. _Cob. I have it_ so _bad._

“Boxman,” he cleared his throat. “Maybe you could, ehm, put some pants on.” Boxman, who was cooking, gave him an unimpressed look over his shoulder. “I mean, for Fink’s sake. She’ll be up soon.” The advantage of purple skin was that blushes were practically invisible.

“Yeah, right. Now dig in.” He slid a heaping plate of… something to him. It mostly stirred professional interest in his inner biologist, rather than his appetite. 

“What I don’t understand,” Boxman went on, while searching for his pants, “is why you don’t just buy the tape. A public library is bound to need money, right?”

“It was the first thing I tried yesterday.” He poked at what surely had to be asparagus, which is what had gone into the pan, but now looked as if it was meant to sink ships during dramatic storms. “They said it doesn’t technically legally belong to them, so the money would go to the owner, and they never wanted it sold.”

“Huh. Who’s the owner?”

“I’m not sure.” It wasn’t a lie, technically. He didn’t have proof, just a hunch about what a tape like this was doing in a place like that. “Doesn’t matter, I don’t want to pay for it anyway.”

“Ok, then we hop in a Boxmore crate, teleport to the stacks, find the tape, and teleport out. Nobody will even know we were there!”

“I’m not setting foot in one of those things. You never even explained to me how you managed to harness wormholes.”

“Oh! Actually, I have a paper on that! Do you want to read it?”

“No, I prefer-“

“Here you go.” Venomous stared at the solid stack of paper that had materialized in Boxman’s talons out of apparently thin air.

Now there was a memory he didn’t know he still had. It took him by surprise.

“PV? Are you alright?”

“Y-yes. Thanks. I’ll read it. Later. Everyone needs some light bedtime reading, right! N-not that I’m saying your research is light! It’s very serious! I mean, or so I hear!” He stuffed a big spoonful of food in his mouth before he could stuff his foot in there any further. “Wow! This is actually very good!”

“Actually?” Boxman asked innocently.

“Sooo,” he quickly changed the topic, “assuming we teleport to the stacks, how do we find the tape?”

“I took a printout of the library floor plans, like that little, erm, sweet Fink suggested. We just split into teams and ransack everything!”

“Is that all?” Venomous said between bites. “If any of the librarians catch us, they can call in all the heroes that were there yesterday.”

“Pffsh, I’m sure they got bored after you left them and went away. Here, let’s turn on the news!”

Boxman turned on a small TV set that sat in one corner of the kitchen, just in time for the early morning news.

“-the protesters have spent the night at Lakewood Library after yesterday’s attempt to storm the building. Blankets, hot tea and cupcakes are being passed continuously among anyone who joins the protest. Organizers say that heroes have been split into shifts to get 24-hour presence at the library and that the vigil will continue until Billiam Milliam agrees to drop-“

Venomous turned off the TV and thunked his head on the table next to his plate.

“It’s Ok, PV. We’ll just be veeery quiet,” said Boxman awkwardly and patted his back. Venomous hissed. “There-there. I’ll get some work done on the minebots now, you’ll play with your, er, darling little minion, and we’ll try again in the afternoon. Maybe at least some of them will go away by then,” he crooned. 

And Venomous believed him. _Just like that_. 

He wasn’t even surprised when Boxman petted his hair next. It felt wonderful. All Venomous wanted was to curl around the oversized chicken of a man and go back to sleep. Until the Chicken Fair 30XX, preferably.

“Ew! Ewewew! I don’t want to see _that_ first thing in the morning!” Fink squealed at the kitchen door, followed by a chorus of metallic giggles. 

And thus, a new day began at Boxmore.

—-

A while later, Ernesto came into Boxman’s workshop and handed his father the Villain Weekly.

“I have the newspaper you wanted, father,” he explained at Boxman’s questioning look over the drill he was tinkering on. “I couldn’t find it anywhere at Boxmore, so I went and bought a new one. I think there’s an article about the mining robots you’re working on. Look!”

Boxman grabbed it and looked at page three, where Ernesto was pointing.

“Ooh! So that’s why Billiam needs the minebots! Let’s see. Hm...” he read on. “Will you look at that.” His eyebrows crawled up. “Thanks, Ernesto, that was very useful.”

After the happy robot left, Boxman sat with the newspaper clutched in one hand, staring at the wall. Why would PV, usually so cool and composed, be so… rattle-on-fire over a tape of Laserblast? And a POINT exhibition? An old one, at that? It didn’t make sense.

PV hated POINT. Most villains did, but he seemed to have a special spot in his black, villainous heart for them. And he had mentioned before that they were breathing down his neck. And yet, Boxman didn’t remember ever hearing of a direct confrontation between POINT and PV. Was one of them avoiding the other? Which one?

And there was that again… 6-11 years ago. That was just around the time Laserblast had died. Boxman gulped. The article did say “last months of life.” Boxman hopped off the bench and started pacing. 6-11 years ago. Come to think of it, that was also around the time Professor Venomous started to become a household name in villain circles.

There was no way… No way. Boxman stopped and looked around, as if he didn’t know where to go.

No, it was impossible. And why would PV hide it? And try so desperately to destroy the proof? If it was true, it would only be a reason to be proud. No. Impossible.

It all fit together perfectly, though.

_No, Boxman. Forget about it. Minebots. You need to build minebots with disturbingly pert butts. Let’s go back to work._

\---

Darrell, dressed in his best sailor suit, casually looked behind a bookcase and seeing nobody, waved behind him. Then he proceeded to do the same with each shelf until he reached the staircase, while his father fiddled with a small device, making sure all the security cameras were playing a loop. Darrell headed down and returned a few minutes later, shout-whispering that it was all clear.

“Ok children, just like we rehearsed!” Boxman got everyone in a circle. “If anyone catches you, you’re just innocent kids looking for the encyclopedias. Then just wait until the person disappears and come back here. _No_ improvisations, and definitely _no_ charging, all of you, and I’m looking at you, Darrell.”

“Yes, dad,” everyone said, Darrell most eagerly of all.

“And now spread out and look for tapes that are either unmarked or mention the word “Laserblast” on them. Here, this is what a tape looks like.” Boxman lifted a printout of a generic black tape. “If you find anything, bring it to Professor Venomous. Understood?”

“Yes, dad,” said a chorus. 

“Oh, and one last thing, kids. Dear, dear kids...” Boxman gave them a heartfelt Look. “ _Do not_ disappoint me!”

“Yes, dad!” said the chorus again, accompanied by one “You’re a boxbutt!” and an immediately following “Fink!”

Everyone spread out and left Boxman and Venomous alone on the upper floor of the stacks, which was the landing place of the Boxmore crate, a.k.a. The BoxBox, nickname courtesy of Fink. The stacks were closed off from the rest of the building, taking the back right quarter of all three floors. The only entrance was on the first floor, right across from the librarians’ desk and the library doors. Venomous wasn’t looking forward to going that way, but he knew the chances of the tape still being stored in the stacks were slim, after the failed attempt of the previous day.

“Do you think the, ehm… the disguises will work? Raymond is well-wrapped in his rugby uniform, but the others…” Venomous asked carefully as they started on their floor.

“Huh? Of course. Ernesto, Mikayla and Jethro were really impressed with how well their siblings could disguise themselves!”

“Ah. Yes, of course they were.” Venomous bit back a comment on the quality of the disguises.

“Don’t you think Darrell looks cute in his sailor suit? That was my own uniform when I was in kindergarten, you know,” Boxman said nostalgically, as he started to climb up a bookshelf to reach the upper shelves.

Venomous almost stopped functioning at the sudden mental image of a small soft round baby Boxman in a sailor outfit. In light of that, now that Fink was off to school, maybe it was time to consider parenthood again…

“And Jethro got my ballerina outfit! He was so cute in it as a small bot,” Boxman finished, sniffing proud, fatherly sniffs. Or maybe it was the dust.

Professor Venomous did stop functioning. _Oh Cob’s sugary cornflakes on marmelade._ Yep, high time he looked into those two-father babies his colleagues had been discussing for decades.

“PV? Are you alright? You’re spacing out a lot today.”

“I’m father! I mean, fine! I’m fine! Let’s keep searching.”

There were many important-looking old books on their floor, probably from the university. In another corner, there were piles of boxes full of things that seemed to be connected to the history of Lakewood, including very old photos that looked as if they belonged in a museum, some complicated and detailed maps and even a painted portrait of some mayor past. There was an audio-video section too, where most things seemed to be documentaries, news selections and other video material related to Lakewood. A whole bookshelf was taken by thick encyclopedias.

“And I thought Boxman was a hoarder,” Venomous murmured as he rummaged through a veritable wall of dusty old playback equipment, checking for any forgotten tapes. Something seemed to have been moved recently, so it was worth a shot. Maybe they found the tape here?

“I heard that!” Boxman shouted from atop a shelf. “Why don’t they just get rid of all this junk? We wouldn’t be in this mess if they did!”

_We wouldn’t be in it if I had been more thorough and seen this one coming._

“They do. They sell out the decommissioned stuff twice a year at the back of the library. Whatever’s left, they send for recycling.”

“Huh. How do you know that?”

“I… knew someone who used to come here. A long time ago.” _In another lifetime_.

“Were you-”

Fortunately, Raymond and Darrell chose that exact moment to return, looking rather downcast.

“The second floor is mostly old magazines and newspapers, outdated reference books, and some boxes that say “SALE” with even more books,” Raymond reported.

“Yeah, and all the tapes we found were movies, with covers and all!” Added Darrell. “I’m sure they’re for sale, too.”

Boxman hopped off a shelf and stared up at the two robots suspiciously.

“Children, please turn out your pockets?”

“Huh? What for, coach?” Raymond asked, looking confused.

“Just do it, darlings.”

“There’s nothing in them! I swear! We didn’t steal anything!” Darrell squealed.

“OUT!” shouted Boxman. Two DVDs were instantly produced.

“Let me see,” Venomous cut in before more shouting could happen. “Hm...“Toy Tale 3”… A cowboy, heh? And “Evict Us,” with rugby players. I see. Now go back and leave them where you found them, and I’ll buy them for you when we find our tape, Ok?”

The happy squeals and retreating backs told him he had scored some wannabe-stepdad brownie points. It made him feel inordinately proud. 

“You’re too good to them, PV,” Boxman said with a sigh. “Let’s go see if Fink and Shannon had better luck.”

Fink and Shannon were not there.

Venomous ran through the whole stacks twice, looking everywhere, followed by Boxman and the robots, but everything was empty and quiet.

“Oh Cob, where could she have gone?! Did she leave the stacks? Why?” He started biting his fingernails, sweating bullets. “There are _librarians_ out there! Oh, Fink!”

“It’s alright, PV, I’m sure she’s fine,” Boxman pulled his hands away from his mouth and sat him on a stack of books. “What’s the worst that can happen? Can’t get any worse than yesterday, eh?”

“She’s _biological_ , Boxman! And there are librarians! And heroes!”

“Professor! Come and look at this!”

They ran over to where the robots were trying to peek through the small windows of the double doors. From there, the librarians’ station was visible, straight ahead. Fink was sitting atop the counter, arms crossed, looking very petulant. A red-haired librarian was talking to her, without much success. Boxman, on top of Raymond, waved at her and they all ducked.

A muffled little shout followed. They risked a peek and, to their horror, Fink was hanging by her teeth from the librarian’s arm, which was being waved in attempts to dislodge her.

“Oh, no, Fink, that’s a _librarian_!”

She suddenly did a somersault, landed on all fours, growled at the librarian, and ran off to the discussion area to the left.

Venomous ran out of the stacks, desperate to see what was happening. Boxman and his kids trooped after him, almost crashing into his back.

Fink, being chased by the librarian, ran a circle around the room, knocking over books stacked neatly in displays or left on tables. A group of young people, maybe university students, who had been excitedly discussing something they were working on at a big table in the middle of the area, shouted and laughed, only adding to the general chaos. 

“Psssst! This way you guys!” They all whirled around to see Shannon waving at them from the other side of the first floor, where the kids’ play area was. She was surrounded by toddlers pulling at her colorful disguise. Under the very watchful stares of several parents, they all retreated to the back of the space, beyond the children’s bookshelves, and safely out of sight of the librarians’ station.

“The librarian found us out,” Shannon whispered. “I told them I was here to paint with the kids and Fink distracted them before they could ask more awkward questions.”

“Daddy is so proud of you, Shannon!” Boxman said and patted her hand. “Did you find the tape?”

“No, but there may be something here. I’ll take a look while the kids are painting! Now go!”

The four of them scrambled off to the stairs, on the wall beyond the play area. As soon as they reached the second floor, they ran into a sign “Youth Support Group.”

Unfortunately, the support group was right behind the sign, too. The two groups stared at each other.

“We’re. Eh, just passing, don’t mind us,” said Boxman and herded everyone on to the bookshelves. Under their cover, they regrouped.

“Children, you take this floor. It’s mostly fiction and textbooks, so you probably won’t find anything, but keep an eye out anyway! The professor and I will take the last floor.”

The robots nodded eagerly and the group split. 

The third floor was non-fiction, reference and arts, and blissfully empty of visitors. Boxman and Venomous sighed, took one quick look around and then collapsed into the nearest chairs. 

“This isn’t working, PV. There’s hardly any tapes at all, much less one of Laserblast! And I doubt the kids will find anything either.”

“It must be in the director’s office. It should be equipped with a safe,” grumbled Venomous, half-sprawled on top of a study table.

“Or the librarians’ station? They’re the ones actually arranging the stuff for the exhibition.”

“Yeah, or that.” He got up and rubbed his face tiredly. “Come on, let’s get o-o-oh Cob.”

“What?”

“The BoxBox.”

“Yes?”

“It’s in the stacks. The _closed_ stacks. That are open only from the _inside_. And require a special keycard to enter.”

The way Boxman went pale didn’t bode well.

“Please tell me you have some way to call it here?”

“Uhm… It can only be reprogrammed from home… and I only programmed it to take us to the stacks and back.”

They stared at each other.

“Maaaybe we can steal-” Boxman raised a talon.

“No! Enough!” Venomous slammed his fist on the table and immediately regretted it at the way Boxman flinched and shrunk in his chair. _It’s not his fault, Venomous, it’s yours. And don’t you forget it_. He slumped back in his chair and hung his head in his hands. “I’m sorry, Boxy.”

Just as he thought he deserved the silence that followed, a warm hand touched him. It felt so nice. He didn’t deserve for it to feel so nice.

“It’ll be alright, PV.” The hand patted his back. “They’re obviously not ready for the big show yet.” The hand combed through his hair next. “We’ll get some rest and try again tomorrow.” Calloused fingers tried to tuck the hair behind his ear, to uncover his face. “We’ll keep trying, I promise.” When they failed, they went back to petting his hair.

“Thank you, Boxman,” Venomous managed and, after a minute, sat back in his chair and looked at the other man. Cob, how he wanted to touch him.

“What do you want to do now?”

“We wait until it’s dark outside, collect your kids and Fink, and try to get out through the front door, veeery unobtrusively. Most heroes don’t have night vision, so we should be able to pass. Hopefully.”

“Ok,” said Boxman, looking at him in a manner he didn’t quite understand.

“And in the meantime, I can really do with the peace and quiet here,” he added and slumped back on the tabletop.

\---

“Daddy, I want to be a painter, not a battle robot!”

“Daddy, would you love me even if I wasn’t so amazing??”

“Daddy, I want to be a biologist like Professor Venomous!”

“Boss, why is “Cob’s shiny cobnuts” a curse?”

“Shut up and act casual, or I’ll, I’ll… take away PV’s gifts from yesterday!”

“NOOO!”

“Hey! Who goes there?”

“Everyone, RUN!!!”

\---

Venomous crawled into his bed and tried to collect himself. It was too early to panic. There was still time. They would try again tomorrow. Boxman had promised. He sighed and wriggled under the covers.

His eyes turned to his nightstand, where, surely enough, there was Boxman’s paper on wormholes. He took it and flipped through it. _Too complex for this time of night_. So instead of reading it, he sniffed it and happily discovered that it did indeed smell of Boxman. He was sure he was acting like some kind of pervert, but couldn’t care less.

Lulled by the wonderful, exciting smell, he hugged the stack of papers and let his mind drift off to another such paper…

\---

_“A… Junkfish?” He held up the now powered-down thing._

_“Isn’t it cute?” The strangely bouncy young villain nodded eagerly. “I design them after actual deep-sea fish!” He looked terribly proud._

_“This does look a lot like an anglerfish,” the biologist in him had to admit. “But how do you power them?” He didn’t really expect to get an answer. What villain would ever tell a hero how-_

_“I’m so glad you asked! Here, I have a paper on that, would you like to read it?” A stack of papers appeared out of seemingly thin air and was waved in his face._

_“Uuuuhm...” He took it mostly on reflex. “Thanks, I guess. Can you… summarize it for me?”_

_“Oh.” The young villain deflated. He poked his index fingers together and looked_ so cute _while he did it… “Well… It’s glorbs.”_

_“Glorbs? Really?” He took another, more careful look at the paper in his hands. Sure enough, there was a schematic for a glorb-container of some sort in there. “I thought they were too unstable, unless they were very high-quality. In which case they’re insanely expensive.”_

_“They can be… heh, let’s call it “purified.” They shrink in size and somewhat in power, but that only makes them more convenient for embedding in machinery and devices.” He preened. “I discovered that myself!”_

_“That’s... ” He was at a genuine loss for words. “That’s absolutely brilliant, actually.”_

_“Of course it is!” The young villain fluffed up even more, if that was even possible._

_“Is it difficult?” He asked, imagining how much power could be harnessed like that, if the process was only safe and inexpensive enough. Maybe..._

_“No, just slow. I found that chemical water or medical saline solution work best. It’s all in the paper!”_

_“Amazing...” He could only stare in awe at the absolutely glowing genius that was Lad Boxman._

\---

At the time, the only thing he had been able to think about was how much he wanted to chuck off the blasted helmet and kiss him into the nearest wall. It was only months later, after reading and re-reading that paper, that he had made a brilliantly simple realization - if glorbs could be purified, then they could also be infused. That would create an endless potential of powers they could obtain, and he with them.

That had been the start of everything that ended one rainy night, years later, at an empty donut shop.

—-

A freshly showered Boxman in chick-patterned PJs bravely swung open the doors to his old closet. He stepped in with a frown and, after some digging and wiggling, he pulled out an old black and red shoebox. The cardboard was as hard and shiny as the day he had put it in there, 6-11 years ago, after seeing that one piece of memorable front-page news. Not even a speck of dust on it.

Boxman sat on the edge of the bed and put it in his lap. He poked a talon at the heroically smiling sticker in one corner, suddenly reluctant to open the box. Why was he so… bothered by all this? It didn’t make sense. Not that he’d ever been the one for sense, back then even less than now.

An old memory came to him, unbidden.

\---

_“Do you…” Lad Boxman glared. “Do you think I’m mad, too?”_

_“I just think that if you’re serious about all this supervillain stuff, you really need to use logic to run your business more efficiently. You can’t just go around doing whatever you feel like forever! You’ll never achieve power and recognition like that!”_

_“And I think that you really need to have a finger shoved up your-“ the hero covered his helmet’s cat-ears, looking scandalized “...nose. It’ll do you a world of good!”_

—-

“Heh. I wonder what Mr. Logic would say if he knew he existed because of good old Laserblast.” A small, nostalgic laugh escaped Boxman, as he poked at the sticker on the shoebox again.

Good old _dead_ Laserblast.

Boxman’s smile faded. 

The wild idea he’d had earlier in the day came back to him with a vengeance. Was it true, after all? Boxman couldn’t imagine why PV would hide it instead of boast about it, but still… He had to admit that it seemed very, very possible that… 

PV was Laserblast’s killer.

And how in the world should he, Boxman, feel about that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic comment writing pro!tip 3:
> 
> The keyboard smash! Like this ywegjhaiehd. It can mean:
> 
>   1. I’m so excited and overwhelmed with joy for this work that I’m speechless and incoherent!
>   2. Your fic is meh, frankly, and I don’t know what else to write, so here, have this.
>   3. This is such trash and I’m so upset with it that I want you to know it, but it’s also not worth my coherent words!
> 

> 
> It’s the perfect comment! You express your feelings fully while completely obscuring what your feelings actually are. 


	5. Tuesday: Vagabonds in the library

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multi-colored corn is a thing! It’s called glass gem corn and you should go check it out, it’s pretty!

Librarian Shamrock passed their “Hobbies for the Retired” temporary book display, went “huh” and turned around to take a better look. Had that display always been so… skin-colored?

They picked up a book. The title was “Laser Passion” and the cover showed a very well-built, very scantily clad young man with black hair and cat-like ears, bedroom eyes peeking through a skimpy mask, and slight stubble surrounding a hero’s smile. He was saving a swooning young…cyborg?

Shamrock picked up another. “Night Blast and the Heiress.” Sure enough, practically the same gifted young man who had even less clothes on was holding up another swooning protagonist against a backdrop of an explosion and a shower of techno bills.

Third book. “The Hero Who Wore a Codpiece.” The young man was still the same and the cover did justice to the title, a blushing librarian Shamrock noted as they resisted the urge to wash their hands. Something like this would certainly give their retired patrons a new hobby, but it would also probably considerably shorten their lifespans, they thought.

“On the other hand...”

Librarian Shamrock returned five minutes later and swapped the sign of the display. Now it read: “Inspired by the hero LASERBLAST: Further reading materials.”

Great. Now they only needed someone to move it downstairs for the grand exhibition opening.

—-

Four hours earlier, Boxman rolled the biggest plasma screen Boxmore had into the robots’ playroom (or more precisely had a couple of Darrells do it), plugged in some machinery, and almost lost balance when an excited Fink darted between his feet to plant herself right in front of the screen. The curious robots gathered around.

“And now let’s see what I have here...” He made a show of searching through his coat pockets. “Oh my, where could I have left it? Perhaps I should go back to the lab to check, hmm?”

“Boooxbutt! Don’t be mean! Gimme!”

“I don’t know what you mean, _Stink_ , look, nothing up my sleeve.”

“Boooss!” Fink shouted, before she pounced and crawled up Boxman’s lab coat all the way to his head, sniffing suspiciously. Boxman laughed and settled her on his shoulders despite her protests that playing horsey was way too immature for her level.

“Hm, maybe if you try asking Boxman nicely, he’ll give you what he has prepared,” Venomous suggested when he slithered in the room, summoned by the wail.

“Do I have to?” She crossed her arms and huffed.

“Yes, you do~o,” he came over and patted her mane. “Come on, sweetie, what do we say to the nice man?”

“Do you have my present, Boxbutt?”

“Fink!”

“Ok, ok.” She pouted and looked down at the man whose tuft of hair she was clutching for better balance. “I’m sorry. Do you have a present for me, Boxman?”

“Maybe Ernesto does, do you, son?”

Ernesto removed his tophat and revealed a videos game under it. Fink leapt straight from Boxman’s shoulders to Ernesto’s chest, grabbed the game and then scuttled down to start it.

“I-I hope you approve, PV. I didn’t know what was appropriate...” murmured Boxman. “My children have never played any of these things.”

“I’m sure it’s fine.” He murmured back and then said loudly, “What do we say now, Fink?”

“Thanks, Boxboss!”

The two men exchanged half-hidden smiles at the upgrade from Boxbutt to Boxboss.

“Come on, ro-butts! Watch the master at work!”

The title Landmine Craft came on the screen and the robots shuffled and sat around. The two proud dads unobtrusively melted into the background and snuck out.

“Are you sure it’s fine, PV?”

“Absolutely. Fink knows where the food is, and I got Ernesto to stage a power cut when it’s time for dinner. I’m sure she’s safe with the robots, and if anything does happen, they all have my number.”

“But maybe we should-”

“No. Children. Today.” Venomous said sweetly and venomously. Boxman deflated at that. Venomous sighed and tried again. “They did great yesterday. We crossed out more places where the tape is _not_ , so now we know where to look.”

\---

The BoxBox landed at the same spot as the previous one and Boxman quickly packed off both back to HQ while Venomous sneaked ahead to make sure they were alone in the stacks.

“All clear!” He announced before they huddled together for a battle plan review. “So, first I’ll keep an eye on the librarian while you search the director’s office on the second floor. If the tape’s not there, then you organize a distraction for the librarian while I check the station.”

“Alright! It should be dark enough outside by then to get out like yesterday!”

“Did you hack the cameras again?”

“What kind of question is that, PV? Of course!”

“Good then. We get in, get the tape and make off!”

“Ok. Just… are you sure about the disguises?” Boxman himself was in his “cool street-smart skateboard-owning sporty cool guy” outfit with the cool T-shirt that said “Insert music band name here.” He was pretty cool, if he could say so himself. Venomous, on the other hand, was… well. It was obvious he had just taken whatever of his own clothes had survived the blowing up of his house.

“What about the disguises?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing. Just checking.”

“We’ll get it for sure this time!” Venomous allowed himself to be optimistic.

“We are _so_ going to get it!” Agreed Boxman and the two of them cackled evilly.

\---

When they snuck to the first floor and peeked at the librarians’ station right across from the stacks’ doors, they saw that the red-haired one was there again. There was nothing for them to do but wait until the coast was clear. Which, fortunately, happened only a few minutes later, when a couple of excited university student-looking girls came to the station and dragged the librarian off to the discussion area. There seemed to be a whole group of them making noise there.

“Wish me luck, PV,” whispered Boxman, snuck out of the stacks and bounced off to the staircase leading up to the second floor.

“Good luck, Boxy,” whispered Venomous under his breath to the retreating back, even if he couldn’t hear him. Cob, he couldn’t wait for this mess to be over so he and Boxman could... _Focus, Venomous. Steal tape now, moon over Boxy later._

He was tempted to go ransack the librarians’ station right away, but the librarian could come back at any moment, and he much preferred to have Boxman distract them while he did. So instead, he planted himself near the twin displays of “These Just In! Get ‘em while they’re hot!” and “Recently Returned! ~See what others are into now~” and tried hard to feign an interest in a book titled “Fifty Shades of Cob” in which the hero was apparently acquainting the other hero with all the endless possibilities and pleasures of the world of growing multicolored corn on his poor old farm. Fascinating, what some people would read for fun.

\---

“Fascinating, these people _read_ for fun,” Boxman thought one floor above as he surveyed several library patrons loitering around the bookshelves. The large fiction section was a lot busier than the non-fiction and arts one he had seen the previous day. There were also some teens quietly working on something in the textbook and study materials area - probably homework. All of these people would have to go, if he was to use his small portable laser. 

“Hullllo there, miss... eh, ter? Reading, are we?” He grinned and wriggled his eyebrows as he sidled to the nearest library-goer. The timid-looking grey alien glanced at him and stepped away. “What’s that? The Crepuscule Series? Uuuu, I like a good biting, too, you know.” He made sure to show as many sharp teeth as possible with his next smile, and to clack with them, for good measure.

“Just as I thought,” he said to the suddenly empty space next to him. “One down, seven more to go. Time to channel my inner creep!” he said with a popping P and proceeded.

One after another, the library patrons developed sudden urges to go read non-fiction, children’s books, use the printers, or just go home. The group of three teens proved to be a tough crowd, though. They didn’t respond to his intimidation techniques ( _Sweet Corn on the Cob, good thing we left the children at home! What if this is contagious?!_ ) nor to his portentous speech about how they were going to be bullied for being the little nerds they obviously were. It was seriously getting on Boxman’s already frayed nerves. The situation called for drastic measures.

He took a chair, turned it around, straddled it backwards, turned his baseball hat backwards too, and, once he ran out of things to turn backwards, he happily started:

“So are any of you dating yet? Each other, maybe? Let me tell you youngsters about the dating scene when I was your age. Back then, when a young lad had his eye on a young lass or another young lad or anyone young anyway, but not too young, we would-”

Before the world could be graced with that knowledge, the table was sparklingly empty of kids or study materials and Boxman was left the undisputed king of the second floor of the library. He grinned. Finally time to get to work.

\---

Downstairs, Venomous, who was quite scandalized by all the graphic depictions of different cob-shelling techniques, put his book down and moved to the computer area. He could still keep an eye on the librarian from there, and with any luck, they would have his favorite version of Solitaire installed.

\---

Boxman made short work of the simple lock by melting it with his handy dandy laser, but the smallish room itself was absolutely full of junk. He didn’t know how anyone found anything in there. 

_Well, nothing to it but to get to it_ , he thought. He rolled up his sleeves and started rummaging around, and dumping everything that was not a Laserblast tape in piles on the floor. He hoped Venomous was holding the defenses downstairs because he really didn’t want to be chucked into the localized sea of heroes he could see from the window in the fading daylight.

\---

A small kid pulled at the hem of a very bored Venomous’s coat. He looked down and the kid, a toddler really, who shyly put an open pack of small chocolates on the desk next to his elbow.

“I’m sorry the pack is open, mister.”

“Huh?”

“I only ate the two, and I haven’t touched or licked the others, I promise!”

“Uhm. Are you giving it to me?” He asked, quite confused.

“Yes. Mommy says we need to be nice to people and help them.”

“Err… That’s very kind of you, but I don’t need-”

The kid’s eyes became impossibly large and shiny and they got the distinct puff-cheeked expression Venomous knew and dreaded from Fink’s early infancy.

He stuffed a handful of chocolates in his mouth and chewed them, making happy yummy noises.

Mercifully, that seemed to pacify the kid. They smiled, waved a “Bye, mister! Good luck!” to him and trotted back to their mom.

“What a weird kid,” Venomous said as he went back to his computer. The librarian didn’t seem to be going anywhere, just occasionally dropping by the group in the discussion area, so he decided to go through the recent search history. That was always good for a laugh, he thought as he popped another chocolate into his mouth. They weren’t bad, actually, and he hadn’t had dinner yet.

\---

Boxman was finally satisfied that there was no tape in the whole office. He had melted both the safe and the secret safe, looked at all documents in case it had been sold after all, even checked inside the potted fern’s pot, but there was nothing. He surveyed the now perfectly organized and almost sparkling room that even seemed bigger now that the floor was visible. You didn’t run a factory and raise six kids by being disorganized.

“Poop,” he evaluated his progress. “So it’s in the librarians’ station. At least PV will be happy to get it personally.”

As he quietly exited the office, he saw the “support group” sign from the previous day. This time it was an “Alien Support Group” and its members were just getting together in the small discussion area right next to the staircase.

“Double poop,” he mumbled to himself and looked around. It would be best to stay unnoticed, if at all possible. He considered the floor plan for a moment. If he went aaaall the way through the back of the room, he could creep up to the open staircase doors and be out without drawing any undue attention, he realized, and so he slithered that way.

When he was sneaking by the farthest bookshelf, though, something caught his eye. He grabbed a book and stared at the cover image.

“Laser… Passion?” Nope, his eyes were not deceiving him. 

“Why in Cob’s name is _Laserblast_ painted on this thing? _Shirtless_?” Curious, he leafed through the book.

“Oh, my! And the protagonist is...” he gulped, “ _a cyborg_. What’s this...” 

He let the book fall open to a place which, as its broken spine could testify, was a favorite with literature aficionados. Then his cheeks promptly went a lovely shade of pink. 

“Cob’s buttery cup of popcorn... he put what where?” He purred and skipped a bit. 

“Heh, stupid author, you can’t do that with metallic parts! It’s against all engineering principles!” 

He plopped on the ground, nose buried in the book. “Woow, his mighty cornstalk did what…?”

\---

Downstairs, Venomous was running out of things to do. What was taking Boxman so long? Maybe he had found something? Maybe he had been caught? No, there would have been more of a commotion if he had, even in a library. So what was going on?

He shifted on the sofa where he was now curled, pretending to read a book titled “101 Things To Do With A Plump Chicken,” which had disappointingly turned out to be a cookbook. He considered again going to look for him, but that would leave the librarian unobserved. 

_Hurry up, Boxy, and come back safely._

\---

A giggly Boxman stuffed the book in his pocket and made to leave. Then his eyes fell on the section’s sign, “Romance,” and he had a terrible, terrible thought. What if there were more of these things? Surely, if one artist could use Laserblast as a model, any other artist might. What if they had?

He took a look around and valiantly started climbing the nearest bookshelf - just to make sure there were no other salacious covers tarnishing a beloved, hot hero's memory in the eyes of the general public, of course. It would only take a moment, and surely Venomous could wait a bit longer. Boxman was finally discovering his passion for reading! Surely that was also important, at least in its own way.

“Codpiece… what does sliced fish have to do with- Oooooh my!”

\---

Venomous was starting to panic. Something must have happened to Boxman. The stupid tape be cobbed, he had to go and help him! He slammed the cookbook shut and got up, ready to go.

And then a smallish, but very firm hand landed on his shoulder.

The red name-tag with “Shamrock” written on it invaded his vision.

“A word please, sir.”

\---

Boxman was also starting to panic. He trawled through the whole section and ended up with a veritable heap of books with poor shirtless guys, all of them distinctly Laserblast-y. And what was he supposed to do with them now? He couldn’t check them out! He had no library card! And even if he did, what would Venomous say if he saw these?

On top of that, the alien support group had noticed him and were giving him very strange looks over their shoulders.

And then inspiration hit. He needed the dullest, most unobtrusive place where nobody would look for these books! And he knew just the place. He grinned and trotted away with his pile of literature. It would be perfect. Who went to the _library_ after retirement to look for new hobbies?

By the time the deed was done, the alien support group had finished their meeting and he could happily leave the crime-scene unobserved. He walked down the stairs with a happy bounce in his step at a job well done. On the first floor, he ignored a couple of dirty looks he got and started looking around for his partner in crime.

Venomous, however, was nowhere to be seen. Had he been captured? Had he been taken out by heroes? Had he gone to the loo? Before starting to panic, Boxman decided to wait a bit, after all, so he strolled around for a bit and then finally picked a random book from the “Recently Returned” display. He made himself comfortable with it in an empty armchair right by the kids’ play area.

\---

Venomous, in the meantime, stared at a cup of instant noodle soup as if it contained poison. There was a marmalade bun for dessert, too, and a paper cup of hot tea.

“Go on ahead, dig in. Look, I also have tea, so I’ll just keep you company here,” librarian Shamrock said in a quiet, but friendly tone. “It’s quite alright.”

Venomous stared some more, first at the food, then at his surroundings. He was awkwardly seated in an office chair right in the middle of the librarians’ station. The librarian was, too. And they were smiling. And he could see the entirety of the station - including all its contents - from his position. His eyes scanned everything.

Not a single tape in sight. _Cob, thank you, it must be safe with Boxy then._

“Just this once, buddy. It’ll be our secret,” the librarian winked at him. Venomous broke out in a sweat.

“But I’m not-“ he tried, and his stomach growled right on cue. _Awkward_. But the soup did smell good.

“You can pay me back later then, how about that?” The librarian smiled sweetly. 

Venomous, still unsure what alternative dimension he had walked in, decided not to rock the boat and reached for the soup.

“You can’t sleep here, you know,” the librarian, Shamrock, said with a compassionate look in their eyes. “But I did a quick search, and there’s a good shelter not very far from here. Look, I printed this for you. There’s a map on the second page.”

“A… shelter?” He took the offered sheets of paper. Were they expecting an attack from Billiam and already looking for bomb-shelters?

“Uh-huh,” they nodded. “But as long as you don’t make much noise and keep to yourself, you can stay here all day. Heh. For as long as the library is here, anyhow.” They shook their head sadly. “Anyway. We’ll just make you a library card when you’re done with the food. Do you have an ID, if it’s alright to ask?”

“Uhm…”

“That’s Ok. What do you go by?”

“Ven… ny. Venny.”

“So you’ll be Venny Doe then,” the librarian smiled and then looked to their tea.

Venomous prudently kept busy with the food. It was quite good.

“This was supposed to be a place of help for the community, you know,” Shamrock said to their tea. “And it’s usually its most underprivileged members that need it the most. Especially the kids. People like Milliam really don’t care about that. I’m afraid… I’m afraid that in a month, or a week, or even tomorrow I won’t be able to help anyone anymore.”

Venomous’s old hero instincts must have kicked in, he thought, because he suddenly found himself saying, “with a mindset like that, you’re sure to find other ways to help people, just as good as now.” _Eck. Embarrassing._

Shamrock looked up at him in surprise, and then smiled. _Not so bad, for a librarian, after all._

“Thank you, that was very sweet,” Shamrock said sincerely.

Venomous hid his embarrassment in a big slurp of tea. What would the other villains think if they could see this? What would _Boxman_ think? 

“And what about you?” the librarian went on. “How did you become homeless?”

He spurted all of the tea straight in the librarian’s face.

—-

Luck had not left Venomous entirely, though, because a shrill cry of “You punk!” came just in time to save him. He jumped on his feet and lo and behold, there was Boxman, being hit with a manpurse by a small angry alien.

“Now wait a minute here, I may be a villain but I’m not a-“

“What in the world is going on here?!” The still dripping librarian Shamrock ran over, followed at a distance by a fiercely blushing Venomous who was eyeing his clothes with horror as he ran.

“It’s him again! He was casing me in the fiction section, then he was eavesdropping on our support group meeting, and now he’s followed me down here and he sat right behind me! This young punk is up to no good!”

“That’s really not what I- Wait, you think I’m young _and_ a punk?” Boxman was suddenly all giggly and blushy.

“Eavesdropping on the support group?” Shamrock’s face darkened and lightning cracked behind them.

“I did no such thing! I was reading! Books!”

“Young punk?” Venomous snickered.

“Hey, watch it!”

“Ok, let’s calm down, I’m sure this... gentleman can explain what happened, so why don’t we-”

“N-no!” Venomous shouted, suddenly inspired. “I know him! I’ll take care of him, librarian, don’t you worry about a thing!” He said while dragging a fluffed up and confused Boxman with him.

“Oh! Venny, you don’t need to! We don’t know if he did anything wrong!”

“I’m sure he did, this _young punk_! Least I can do to thank you!” He half-hugged, half-lifted Boxman.

“And what about you? You didn’t finish your food!”

“I… I’m going to the shelter! Thanks for the printouts,” he waved the sheets of paper, already halfway to the door.

“Oh… Well, take care of yourself!” Shamrock managed to say before Venomous hip-checked the library doors open and pulled an unresisting Boxman out.

He leaned on the closed doors for a moment and just looked at his business partner, safe and sound in front of him, illuminated softly by the heroes’ camplights.

“We did it, Boxy,” he breathed a sigh of relief.

—-

Quite some time later the same night, after tucking in minions and kids to recharge, the two of them reconvened in the Boxmore kitchen area, where Boxman had been munching dinner while waiting for Venomous.

Venomous, for his part, was now as squeakily clean-shaven as he’d been before puberty. His hair was trimmed, washed, brushed, and shined with essential oils. His skin glowed, his nails were perfect, he smelled of expensive cologne and clean linen, his clothes were new and fresh and ironed, and everything that had been part of his disguise had gone into the industrial incinerator. He was quite sure he _sparkled_.

Boxman stared at him slack-jawed, wide-eyed and cross-legged.

“Ok, Boxy, I’m ready. Now give it to me!”

“WHUOAT,” the inventor squeaked.

“The tape,” Venomous made a grabby gesture, grinning. “Come on, gimme.”

“Uhm. I thought _you_ were going to show it to _me_.”

“What? No, you never gave it to me.” Venomous’s smile withered.

“I never had it. _You_ were at the librarians’ station, _you_ took it.”

“Boxman. It wasn’t in the station. _You_ found the tape. You took forever upstairs.” Venomous felt like he was crashing down through clouds.

“That’s because I checked everywhere and it wasn’t there, PV.” Boxman said carefully. “Didn’t you find it?”

“...”

“PV?”

Venomous collapsed in the chair opposite Boxman. _Oh Cob…_

He clutched his head in his hands and curled up in his chair. He had been so sure... _Oh Cob no… how… how could this happen…?_

Boxman was saying something to him. He should probably respond, but he was suddenly so very tired, so fed up, so...

There was a warm hand combing through his hair. It was rough and broad and had little prickly talons that scratched his skin just right. _That’s it. Something real to focus on._

A softer, but still calloused hand touched his. He shivered at that, but allowed it to wrap around one wrist, and then another, and pull his fingers away from his face. He took a deep breath and struggled to calm down.

Boxman dragged a chair right next to his and sat down, rubbing his back gently. It was close enough that Venomous could feel the soft, inviting heat of his body. Cob, how he wanted to hold him.

“Come on, PV, cheer up,” cooed Boxman a bit nervously. “Maybe they gave it to a lawyer or a bank for safekeeping. You can make some phone calls tomorrow and find out who they work with. Then we can blow them up and get the tape from them. I bet there won’t be any heroes there!”

“I’m so sorry I had to drag you into this mess, Boxy,” Venomous said sincerely. “Is there… is there any way I can make it up to you?”

“Actually, erm,” Boxman looked away from him and fidgeted. “I know you’re tired and all, but… There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Anything.”

“Really?” Boxman gave him a wary look. “Cos, you know, I’ve been thinking about it, too. About you and Laserblast and your connection.”

Venomous gasped very, very quietly.

“And I couldn’t help noticing that you became famous 6-11 years ago. When… when he died. Under mysterious circumstances.”

“Boxman, it’s not...”

“No, just-just hear me out, PV.” Boxman waved his arms and looked embarrassed, but also determined. “I couldn’t help putting two and two together. I mean, if you had never mentioned Laserblast, I wouldn’t have, but you did, and... ” He gulped and made a vague gesture. “I don’t really understand why you were trying to hide it. But you’ve got to know that, well, Laserblast was my friend. N-not friend exactly, maybe, I don’t know. Someone I hung out with. Sometimes.” He looked away from Venomous. “And… and what happened to him affected me.”

“Oh, Boxman...” So that was it then. Boxman had found out the truth before he could tell it to him. And that was his reaction. He shouldn’t have stalled so long. No, he should have never let him anywhere near his secret. Boxman should have never found out. And now Boxman knew who he was. Worse, he knew _what_ he was: the kind of person who watched by as Boxman mourned his friend, the kind of person who inserted himself into his life without telling him who he really was. Boxman would never forgive him. Now that he knew the truth, he would never let him back in. Of course he wouldn’t. He was going to lose _his Boxy_.

“What you did sort of… hurt me,” Boxman went on after a small pause. “So I don’t really know how to feel about helping you cover it up now. I know that I can’t leave you to deal with it alone, and I also know I shouldn’t be helping his killer.”

“Boxman, I swear, I’m so very sorry about-” He froze as his brain caught up with what Boxman was actually saying through the fog of his own internal demons screaming at him. “Wait, what.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Boxman poked his fingers together. “He was a hero, I was a villain, blah-blah, but we weren’t like-”

“No, not that.” His mind was suddenly blank. “You think _I killed Laserblast_?”

“Well didn’t you?” Boxman gave him a challenging look.

“I… I never thought about it like that before, actually.” 

_In a sense, I did kill him. I was tired of being him. I was starting to hate him and his life, in fact._

“PV?”

“I didn’t kill him, Boxman. Not the way you think, at least.” He looked him in the eyes and said with calmness that surprised even him. “I _am_ him.”

For a terrifying moment, Boxman just stared at him.

In the next, he jumped up from his seat and backed off, wide-eyed, as if he had finally seen the snake Venomous knew he truly was.

Boxman ran away. Venomous just sat in his chair, looking blankly at the empty kitchen table.

\---

Fink, who had absolutely _not_ been eavesdropping, scuttered away, back to her room. _Stupid, stupid boss. Stupid, stupid Boxbutt. Stupid newspaper and stupid heroes!_

She ran into Ernesto’s leg. Her first impulse was to chew through it, but then she had a better idea. “You!” She pointed up at the rather startled robot. “You go and get your stupid siblings _now_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic comment writing pro!tip 4:  
> Tell the author what you want to happen next! It’s really, really helpful for a fic writer to know that so they can avoid it.
> 
> It has been brought to my attention that there’s a real-life mix between “Fifty shades of cob” and “101 things to do with a plump chicken.” It’s a cookbook named “Fifty shades of chicken.” It’s so popular it has a website: <http://www.fiftyshadesofchicken.com/#>
> 
> And for the love of Voxman, WATCH THE VIDEO. XDDDDDDD It’s only a minute and a half and if PV saw it, he would have a stroke.


	6. Wednesday: Archives

Laserblast didn’t _dis_ like TV interviews exactly. In theory, he was all for cheering fans and the adoration of the masses. Meeting his fans in person, though, always left him feeling slightly weirded out. While he did agree that he was great, awesome, cool and handsome, he would rather hear it from people who actually knew him, and they… weren't the types to say it. So when he exited the TV station by the back, the squealing bunch awaiting there despite the rainy evening did nothing for his mood.

“Laserblast! Laserblast, thank you for protecting us!”

“Laserblast, you’re the best!”

He smiled and waved and tried to run away quickly without making any eye contact.

“We love you, Laserblast!”

“You’re my idol, Laserblast!”

_Just once, say something new, people…_

“You’re the greatest hero ever, Laserblast!”

“Hey Laser! Come sign my boob!”

Laserblast promptly ran into a street lamp, slipped on the way back, lost balance and ended up on his tush in a puddle. A round apparition with one red robotic eye trotted over and grinned down at him.

“ _That_ sure got your attention, huh?” Mercifully, both of its, ehm, assets were safely hidden under suspenders, a modestly buttoned shirt complete with a bow-tie and what looked like a lab coat.

“Wha...”

“There, let me help you up.” The apparition, who had had the common sense to bring an umbrella with a cartoon chicken on it, held out a hand, ignoring the stormcloud of fans that looked ready to beat it up. “I’m Lad Boxman, big fan of your work,” it said as it pulled him up in one go with surprising strength.

“Yeah, so I gathered,” Laserblast mumbled as he made soothing gestures at the rest of the fans. “But look, I really don’t have time to-”

“That series of articles about harnessing unfocused naturally-occurring superpowers through technological means? Amazing! But you’re impossible to get a hold of! And you don’t put up your papers for open peer review!”

“Huh??” _Now_ he had Laserblast’s full, undivided and surprised attention. “My… _articles_?”

“I told you, big fan of your work.” 

Laserblast stared at him open-mouthed. Where was that warm, soft pink sparkling light coming from? 

“So then I asked myself, Boxy, what’s a guy gotta do to get that fellow scientist’s attention?” The apparition grinned up at him. He noticed only then that it- _he_ was standing on his toes to keep the chicken umbrella over Laserblast’s head.

“You… You’re a scientist, too?” he asked, still too stunned to say much else.

“Yes! In fact, I’m working on something sort of similar. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. Oh, I have so many questions!” He could swear he saw stars in the round guy’s eye. “Did you have any test subjects aside from yourself? Do you think this technology can work on other unfocused sources of power? Did you make your helmet by yourself? Did you use glorbs?”

“Whoah, wait, wait. I didn’t come prepared to give a lecture!” The other guy deflated and made him feel guilty. “And what are you working on?”

“Oh!” He cheered up instantly. “Uhm, there’s a StarTechnos just over there. Do you wanna sit for a bit and discuss it? And, urm, maybe they can lend you a hairdryer or something.”

“Hairdryer?” Laserblast blinked under the helmet.

“For your, er, tail feathers. I did make you fall into a puddle.” He fiddled with his fingers and poked them together. _Cute_. “Sorry about that. I didn’t think it’d surprise you that much.”

“Well I don’t normally- I mean a hero doesn’t- Ah, never mind.” Laserblast gave up. Might as well give it a go, even if only for the hairdryer. “Let’s go.”

—-

That slow rainy evening turned out to be the best in the life of one lucky StarTechnos barista in possession of a hairdryer who happened to be a fan of Laserblast. 

\---

The round chicken guy and Laserblast’s “tail feathers” seemed to have a special connection, he decided. It was only the second time they’d ever met and this time he had a huge fish-like robot with surprisingly strong jaws locked on the bottom of his battle suit. He felt like the biggest idiot on the planet as he wriggled stiffly, trying to reach behind and get it off in the middle of a bloody battle.

“Laser! What in Cob’s kernels are you doing? You’re a sitting duck! Move!”

Foxtail probably had a point, but he found he’d rather die with his dignity and pants intact than make any sudden moves and see his silky red briefs grace the front pages of every newspaper tomorrow. _That clever little chicken will pay._

He tried to shoot away as many targets as he could from his standing position, dodging gingerly when needed. Foxtail and Dr. Greyman were doing a lot better than him in the distance.

“Laserblast, we’re moving ahead. Hopefully they’ll follow. Take care of this and catch up with us if you can. If not, see you back at HQ. Good luck.” Greyman floated away, followed at some distance by Foxtail. Some robots peeled off after them, but a decent few stayed.

He dodged as half-heartedly as they attacked him. Laserblast had never been so eager to see the back of his team.

“You’re a villain?” He finally shouted to the world at large. “You’re a cob-shelling _villain_?? You couldn’t mention that _before_?”

“He-heh, sorry about that, Laser,” he heard a familiar embarrassed voice behind him and turned around. Very carefully. Sure enough, it was the round little cobsucker.

“You. Will. Pay.” He growled. Very stationarily. 

“Of course, of course, just send the bill to Lad Boxman and ship it to-“

“Are you kidding me?! I’ll make you suffer!” 

Something gave a gentle ripping sound and both men stared at each other very carefully.

“Shall I… help with that?” Boxman said innocently and pointed a talon at his fish situation. Laserblast could only grind his teeth and stay still. “It’s, it’s alright, just stay still, they do have a manual release riiiight” Boxman shoved his hand between the fish’s jaw and Laserblast’s anatomy. He yelped. “Here!”

The huge fish finally unlocked its jaws with a clang and he immediately jumped away. His hands flew back and he groped, checking for damage.

“N-nothing much is visible,” Boxman said shyly to his left foot.

“You looked??” He tried to cover all of himself with his arms.

“H-here, h-have this, it’s a little big, but…” Boxman shrugged off his lab coat and handed it to him without looking. He did seem genuinely sorry, and that little blush was just the cutest he had ever- _No. Focus. Villain. Needs to pay._ He put the coat on anyway.

“Why are you doing this? I thought you were a scientist.”

“I am!” Boxman cheered up immediately. “But I’m also a villain. And I love robots!”

“I can see that,” he said and poked the robotic fish with his foot. For some reason, he had zero desire left to fight. “I should be kicking your butt anyhow,” he said dutifully.

“Should you?” Boxman fidgeted. “Because, he-heh, now that we’ve run into each other again, I was thinking that perhaps we could go to that new pizza place and talk some more about your ideas on power fields? I-I had a lot of fun last time! The most I’ve had while talking shop with anyone else, in fact,” he finished in a mumble.

_Me too_ , Laserblast wanted to say.

“But… you’re a villain. And I’m a hero,” he said instead.

“Oh. Well, you had no trouble publishing your articles where any villain could read them.” Boxman looked up at him hopefully. “And I had no trouble publishing mine where any hero could read them. So… what’s the difference?”

There was a big difference, Laserblast was sure. He just couldn’t name it right then.

The pizza was great, and the other patrons politely left the two of them alone in their booth.

—-

The third time they met, Laserblast came prepared. After the battle was mostly finished, he lingered behind and bagged a smaller fish-like robot, one that had a tiny blinking red light, and made off with it. He then very pointedly didn’t bring it to POINT, but to an abandoned factory he knew, and then he sat down to wait. About an hour later, just as expected, the chicken man appeared, nervously looking around.

“Hey, Lad Boxman,” he called him over, lifting the bag to show what he had.

“Uhm. You know that has a GPS inside, right?” 

Laserblast nodded.

“So I took it as an invitation.”

“It was,” he grinned.

“And you had to steal my junkfish for that?” Boxman practically giggled.

“A… junkfish?” He held up the now powered-down thing.

“Isn’t it cute?” The strangely bouncy young villain nodded eagerly. “I design them after actual deep-sea fish!” He looked terribly proud. 

And so on it went. Every time they met, he discovered something new and exciting. And every time he went back home to POINT, he was certain that had been the last time they saw each other outside the battlefield. And every time, Boxman managed to lure him away again, for an hour or two, now and then.

Laserblast would have never admitted it, but a lot of the time Boxman managed to lure him away simply by _existing_ somewhere out there, busily bouncing between all the brilliant and/or insane ideas he had, while Laser himself was slowly and relentlessly losing all other connections to the world of study and science. There was a lot more power and recognition to be had blowing up villains than writing scientific articles for obscure journals, after all.

And Lad Boxman’s company was probably best enjoyed in small doses, he suspected. That one time when he had dared to say that biological minions were far more superior to any robot, no matter how advanced, he’d barely escaped the villain's improvised lair with his life and suit intact. 

Although, and that was another thing Laserblast would not have admitted so easily, the two of them had a lot less disagreements than he would have expected for people on opposite sides of the hero-villain divide.

\---

Lad Boxman and Laserblast ran. One of them was better at running than the other, but lost his advantage because he was just laughing too hard. When the security searchlight almost caught up with them, they finally reached the POINT van and hopped in its back. Laserblast slammed it shut.

“Thaaa...” Boxman wheezed “thanks, Laser. I didn’t think they… had such… security.”

“Of course they do, it’s the mayor’s office.” Laser also wheezed, but for different reasons. “So tell me again, you did what?”

“I may have...” _huff_ “taped glitter bombs behind all doors. And in cabinets. And fridges.”

“Oh Cob,” snickered a breathless Laserblast.

“And I may have taped air horns under the chairs.”

“Oh Cob’s popcorn,” Laserblast had tears in his eyes by then.

“And the robotic cockroaches that spray you with permanent marker ink if you touch them will be a joy to remove, I’m sure.”

Laserblast just clutched his stomach helplessly. He had not laughed like that in forever.

“Well, what was I supposed to do?! If the mayor is acting so high and mighty and ordering heroes and villains to take their fighting to the Danger Zone, she deserves to be taken down a peg! The nerve of her, acting like we’re kids in need of a time-out!”

“Couldn’t agree more,” he said, rubbing his cheeks dry. “What?” he added when he saw the strange look Boxman was giving him.

“You could just remove it, you know.” He pointed to his helmet. “You’re safe in your own van.”

“I have a dangerous villain in here with me,” Laser smirked, not caring how flirty it came out. It was precious how Lad Boxman went pink and stuttered. “I can’t do that.”

“I won’t tell, you know.”

“I just can’t, Boxy, I’m sorry.” He didn't know why, exactly. He also wasn’t sure why he felt the need to apologize. He just did.

“That’s Ok,” Boxman said seriously. “I understand.”

Laserblast smiled and they just looked at each other for a moment.

“Sooo, am I… apprehended, then?” Boxman fidgeted first.

“What?” _Oh. Yes. Hero, villain, blah-blah._ “Uhm. Maybe you can have a miraculous escape.”

“Yeah?” The adorable villain cheered up immensely.

“Well, you did incapacitate me, I have to hand it to you,” Laserblast pointed to his still wet cheeks and looked at his fellow conspirator innocently.

The two of them cackled.

\---

Laserblast snickered. It was a low, hissy sound that would have been termed an “evil chuckle” in any lesser hero. He was sure he was, for the moment, the only one who had spotted the fish that did _not_ belong.

Admiral Grand McBigman, a long-time idol of Foxtail’s and passionate fish enthusiast, was still making his speech while the audience ooh-ed and aah-ed and applauded, admiring his fish collection. It was all quite ridiculous, but it came with a generous donation and more access to military installations, so POINT was present and correct and on their best behavior. Which is more than could be said for _the_ fish - it had just swallowed one of its brethren whole.

Laserblast stifled another laugh and unobtrusively melted back into the crowd. _The_ fish innocently popped two more morsels into its maw. Greyman eyed the water tank suspiciously, and the fish eyed him.

Only five minutes later, half of the heroes present at the event were splashing in and out of the big aquarium, trying to defeat a snapping, thrashing fury of a junkfish, accompanied by the admiral’s heartfelt screams not to hurt it because his pets might still be alive inside, along with Foxtail’s barking orders that the heroes very much did not obey. It was glorious. Laserblast snapped a few pictures from the sidelines with someone’s unattended camera and then pocketed the film.

When the last prized goldfish untrampled by heroes was inside the junk fish, it leaped out of the water to a surprising height, opened a propeller that had been hidden in its back, and whizzed away. Laserblast knew he wasn’t going to get a better opening than that.

“Foxtail! I’ll give chase! You secure the civilians. And send the admiral’s uniform to the dry cleaner’s or something.”

He didn’t particularly need to follow the junkfish to know where it would land, so he took a detour to a photo studio. He still managed to saunter into the improvised evil lair only a little after the fish had arrived.

“Hey, Boxman. Want to grab some sushi?”

“Very funny, Laser,” he said while trying to stuff a particularly ugly goldfish into a big mason jar full of water. Some of its fellows were already in similar jars along the shelves and a couple were still hopping in the open bowels of the junkfish.

“Wanna see the early previews then?” He handed him the pictures and Boxman grabbed them eagerly, evilly cackling at the sight of an aquarium stuffed full of heroes and a junkfish. 

Laserblast took a lollipop out of a small box Boxman kept for him, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth as he made himself comfortable on a pile of junk, watching the other man go through the pictures and eventually go back to work.

“An idol of Foxtail’s, huh,” Boxman said casually while filling another jar with water.

“Yup,” Laserblast happily sucked on his lollipop.

“Very big event, a lot of pomp.”

“ _So_ _much_ pomp.”

“A lot of money, too.”

“You betcha.”

“Aaand you don’t mind me helping myself to some of it?”

“Pfft. You’d be surprised how much cash you can make selling these monstrosities. And nobody will notice a few missing when I return them.”

“I meant, what with me being a villain and all.”

“You get some cash for your experiments to advance science and stuff, the admiral gets taken down a notch, and Foxtail’s enthusiasm cools off for a while. Until all that fur dries out, at least,” he snickered again. “I don’t see a downside here.”

“Victimless crime, eh,” smirked Boxman, finally done with bottling all the fish.

“Victimless crime,” smirked Laserblast.

_Cob, if only I wasn’t a hero_.

All he had done was mention to Boxman that there was this ridiculous event coming up that he loathed attending, and the bouncy, mad genius had come up with that equally ridiculous plan of kidnapping a few fancy fish and playing all the heroes at the event for idiots, which they were certainly acting like, in Laserblast’s opinion, all swoony and ready to suck up. Cob, some days it was _hard_ being a hero.

Some days it was hard not kissing Lad Boxman. 

_He’s a villain, Laser, and you’re a hero. It’s the only thing you’ve got. Forget it._

\---

“My… my junkfish. My inventions… My lair...”

“I’m so sorry, Boxman,” he said, looking guiltily over the singed, scrap-covered field. His eyes darted back to the stains on the kneeling villain’s lab coat. He hoped to all Cob’s kernels that they weren’t blood.

“That was literally everything I own. And all my notes. And they even took the glorbs.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what we were raiding until we were here, and then I couldn’t do anything anymore.”

“Couldn’t _do_ anything?” Boxman finally looked at him. _Oh Cob he’s crying. And it’s all my fault._ “You did plenty! Too much, in fact! Did you have to go so cob-dang hard at it??”

“I… I’m sorry. Heroes, orders, you-you know how it is.” _Shut up you stupid cobsucker, you’re only making it worse. That was his whole life._

“I ripped your pants with my junkfish once! Once! And you came in here with the whole of POINT and left me with a huge pile of scrap!”

“Well what did you expect me to do!” Laserblast exploded. He wasn’t used to being criticized about anything. He wasn’t used to being anything other than perfect. _Or close enough to fool the casual observer, anyway,_ as he’d often told Boxman _._ “You’re a villain. I’m a hero. It’s all I know how to be. If you want to go and make yourself a nuisance and associate with the big villains without even taking precautions to protect your lair first, you’re going to end up in a pile of scrap! That’s how the world works!”

He knew he’d said too much as soon as he’d said it. He didn’t mean any of it. He really didn’t.

“Hero?” Boxman looked at him with a solemn expression he had never seen before. “I don’t know, Laser. You may _think_ you’re a hero, but I think you make one hell of a villain.”

The depth of disappointment in his voice was crushing. 

It was time to go.

It never would have worked with Boxman anyway. It was no use trying to apologize. It was no use trying to help. Nobody could forgive what he had done, least of all a villain.

He couldn’t face him and what he had done anymore.

Less than a week later, he had a finger stuck up his nose by an energetic, strong, smart, starry-eyed, brave, lovely young hero who looked at him like he was everything he had ever wanted to be...

\---

Venomous listlessly watched the morning light crawl through the blinds of his bedroom, trying to dispel the shadows that he had been staring at the whole night on and off, memories and fears and nightmares constantly playing through his mind’s eye like that cob-forsaken tape that was the manifestation of all his life’s mistakes.

Cobble that tape. Cobble the library. Cobble him.

“Boss! It’s me, are you up? Boss!” _Well, if it isn’t the only thing I’ve ever done right._

“I’m up, Fink. Come in.” He did his best to sit up and look… sane. 

When the door opened, Fink was surrounded by a sheepish rainbow of robots. She took a disapproving look around.

“Juuust as I suspected,” she announced, hands on her hips, like a little commander surveying a lost battlefield. “You are sulking!” She pointed an accusing finger at him.

“Adults don’t sulk, Fink, I’m just, erm… meditating.”

“Suuure,” she said, tail flipping from side to side. “Robots! Bring him in!”

“Huh?”

A very embarrassed Boxman in… was that a chicken-patterned pajamas? was half-led, half-shoved into the room. He was protectively clutching what looked like a black shoebox and simultaneously seemed to be trying to hide behind it.

“Now TALK!” Fink shouted and the door was slammed shut.

\---

The two men in pajamas looked at each other in embarrassment.

“Morning, PV,” Boxman flashed a wide, blushy smile.

“Morning, Boxman,” Venomous said as he slid to sit at the edge of the bed. His voice came out lower and rougher than usual. He coughed and looked away. “You don’t have to, you know. Talk to me, I mean.”

“Oh.” He fidgeted with his shoebox and poked what looked like a sticker in one corner. “If you prefer. Then maybe you can, ehm, look at this?”

Boxman inched closer, looking at his box, the carpet, the window blinds and everything that wasn’t Venomous. He supposed he deserved that.

“What is it?” He took the box carefully, seeing how reluctant Boxman was to let it go. Then he froze. “Is that sticker...”

“Yeah,” croaked Boxman, and then tried again, more confidently. “Yeah it is. Come on, open it.”

Venomous put it in his lap and removed the lid. An old newspaper with his own picture and the succinct caption “beloved hot hero will be missed” was on top.

“What in the world...” he whispered while Boxman flopped down on the bed to the right of him and swung his legs shyly, saying nothing. So he dug in deeper.

A few sheets of stickers came out next. Most were of Laserblast and only some were missing. 

Next were a number of magazines and newspaper cuttings. Some were articles about a heroic deed or another, and some were just pictures of him, mostly doing promotional stuff. One was of him on a skateboard, butt popping right at the camera. Boxman blushed adorably pink as Venomous quirked an eyebrow at that one.

A bunch of old cherry lollipops were rattling around in the box, too. Now that he saw them, he remembered the brand and the box of them Boxman had kept in his first workshop for him. _Cob_.

He laughed despite himself when a Punko doll of him came out next. He bobbed its head. He remembered the first time he had seen the then-new merchandise line and thought that only complete weirdos would buy that ugly thing. Now, he thought it was cute.

Some bills and napkins were under the doll. Rootbeer, pizza, sushi, shooting range, all-night hamburger joint… And they all had scribbled formulas and schematics on them. As he guessed, so did the napkins. One read “kaboom” in bright red chicken-scratchy writing.

A few loose sheets of his own writing were next, mostly science, accompanied by a yellow sticky note that read “Good times <3” It was stuck to the back of a photo he had taken himself, of a junkfish with a propeller on top flying out of an aquarium full of wet heroes. _Heh. Good times indeed._

The rest of the box contained… all of his old scientific articles. He had given Lad Boxman some of them himself, and he must have printed the rest on his own.

_Mighty Cob… where do I even begin to apologize for everything? For the workshop? For never helping you rebuild it? For disappearing? For never saying anything until I moved in with you? Why are you even sitting here, talking to me at all?_

“PV,” Boxman called out gently.

Venomous looked at him, biting his lip, lost for words.

“I’m so glad you’re alive,” said Boxman, and the sincerity in his voice _hurt_.

“I… I don’t even know where to begin to apologize for everything...”

“It’s alright,” he said and his voice trembled only a little bit. “It’s all in the past anyway. You’re here now!” He added more cheerfully.

“Just like that?” Venomous felt lost. It was too easy once again, and not at all what he had been prepared for.

“As I said. I’m just glad you’re Ok. And here with me.”

“You… forgive me?” He clarified, disbelieving and mildly shocked.

“Oh. I forgave you a long time ago.”

“Why?” Venomous choked. “Aren’t you mad at me? Aren’t you afraid I might do it again?”

“No, and maybe,” Boxman pressed his lips together. “But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Venomous didn’t know what to say, so he fiddled with the things he had taken out of the shoebox and started putting them back in. He knew his guilty conscience wouldn’t let him forget them.

“Sooo,” Boxman said, sounding more like himself. “Friends?”

“If you really want to… I’d love that,” he managed, sincerely.

Boxman flashed him his shiny, toothy smile and extended his hand for Venomous to shake. Cob, how he wanted to jump on him, press him into the soft bed and stay there until… _Focus, old villain. You’re not there, yet._

“And, ehm…” Boxman fidgeted after they shook hands. “Can you tell me what really happened, then? After… you know.”

Venomous did. He had never told anyone else the complete story, other than the child-friendly version he told Fink, so it sounded strange to say all of that out loud. But it was… rather liberating, he found to his surprise, if difficult. It helped that Boxman seemed neither shocked nor judgmental about any of what he had done, only interrupting to ask some questions about what he had felt and thought at the time.

When he finished, they sat in silence for a bit, on either side of the black shoebox. Venomous felt a lot better, a lot more like himself _. I should have done this a long time ago._

“So what’s really on that tape then?” Boxman asked.

“I’m not sure, but I think it must be one that Silver Spark made for some celebration or another. I was without my helmet, for once.”

“Heh!” Boxman chuckled. “It must have been quite the party. You never took it off.”

“Yes...” Venomous’s brows furrowed. “It was a compulsion. It was like I wanted to put… a wall, I suppose, between who I was in reality and what people saw.”

“So you think that if people saw your face on the tape, they’d know it was you?”

“Of course. I haven’t changed all that much, color notwithstanding. And what villain would have anything to do with me, a former high-level hero? Not to mention most of the old villains have personal scores to settle with… Laserblast.”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine it being good for business,” Boxman poked his lips with a talon.

“Not good at all,” agreed Venomous. “In fact, I’m surprised you were so eager to hang out with me back then. It could not have been good for your up-and-coming villain reputation to associate with a known hero.”

“Oh, I had it all figured out!” Boxman said cheerfully. “You were going to keep being the greatest hero out there, and I was going to be your arch-nemesis. Every angsty hero needs one, you know.” Venomous huffed a small laugh, despite himself. 

“I was going to build the greatest robots ever, and you were going to thwart me at every turn, and we were going to have so much _fun_ going at it! Explosions all around and all that!” Boxman waved his arms in demonstration.

“Is that so.” Suddenly, it was like all that time had never passed, Venomous thought, and smiled so very fondly. “And how did that arch-nemesis thing fit in with eating pizza together in diners around midnight and discussing junkfish, glorbs, and how teamwork sucks?”

“Heh, I thought that was a given,” Boxman chuckled and then deflated a little. “Cob, you’re right, I was so young and… unwise back then.”

“I was even worse. And you’ve aged really well, if I may say so. You’ve kept all the best of yourself.” Venomous said quietly and gathered the courage to take his hand and rub his thumb soothingly on the rough, almost scaly skin. Boxman looked down at their joined hands, lost in thought.

The silence stretched, while they both dealt with their private reminiscences.

“However any of that may be,” eventually Venomous said, with an air of finality, “I had to do what was best for me. Maybe I could have done it in a better manner, but to be honest, I don’t regret anything about the way things turned out, eventually.”

Boxman looked at him, an abstract look still on his face.

“Well, except one thing, I suppose.” Venomous smiled wistfully. “If I had done that, I think everything would have happened differently. Easier. And better.” 

“Yeah?” Boxman sympathetically rubbed the hand he was still holding. “And what’s that?”

“This.” 

Before he could think better of it, Venomous leaned in and kissed Boxman’s lips.

Boxman shoved him back and scuttered away, sputtering.

“What the- NO!”

Venomous, wide-eyed, felt his blood run cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic comment writing pro!tip 5:  
> Did you know that you can comment anonymously? If you're too shy to comment, try it! Fic authors don’t check who’s writing them comments anyway. We're not that obsessed with them. We only print the comments and frame them and hang them over our beds to chase the nightmares away. Or... is that just me??


	7. Still Wednesday: On preparation for library events

Librarian Shamrock took out the new exhibition posters. They were in a nice, gold-adjacent color with a big caption that read “The Golden Age of POINT - Fundraising audio-video and archive exhibition.” It even had a rather good picture of the most famous and beloved hero configuration in the long history of the organization - Laserblast, Foxtail, Dr. Greyman, Silver Spark, El Bow and Rippy Roo. 

“Oh, they’re ready! You’ve done a wonderful job, they look great!”

“Carol! Thank you. None of this would have happened without your help, so credit to you.”

“Aw, shucks,” she said, blushing a little. “It was nothing. I was surprised how many people came forward offering more materials for the exhibition.”

“Yes, I was quite surprised when even Dr. Greyman himself reached out.”

“Did he donate the poster picture?” The two walked into the library and went on chatting.

“No, that was Mr. Gar.” Shamrock giggled a little. “He also lent us a picture of you striking a heroic pose. He was so worried about it that he threatened that if we lost it, he’d only give his employees a half-day off to protest.”

“Gene dotes on that old thing,” Carol smiled fondly. “A lot of people do, apparently. Since the newspapers started publishing about this whole thing, there’s been a bit of a revival of the old hero-worship. Even some of the old retired villains will be attending, too.”

“Hm? They’re appreciating POINT’s hard work - and for a good cause! But you don’t sound very happy about it.”

“I think they’re all here mostly for Laserblast. And… Well…” She sighed. “I just wish they’d remember him as a person, you know? With all his quirks, and flaws, all his goofy shenanigans and his love of small round animals… The _person_ , not the hero.”

“Carol…” Librarian Shamrock put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Oh! You have a further reading materials display!” Carol pulled herself up to the present. “How did you get those? Can I see?”

“Uhmmm… Actually, Carol, that’s not- Carol, no-” 

“...”

Librarian Shamrock sweated.

“Cod… piece?”

“I swear I didn’t even know we had this one lying around. I’ll remove them right aw-”

“No, let it stay.” Carol put her hands on her hips and surveyed the whole display. “That’s him alright! He suuure loved a good showing-off. Besides,” she flashed the terrified librarian a smile and a wink, “these were actually pretty good! I read ‘em all when exam prep was becoming too much.”

“Do you have any more?” Shamrock asked innocently.

“I’ll have Gene bring the big box over this evening,” Carol answered in kind.

\---

Ernesto got off the phone and fidgeted with his tie. He was used to handling disgruntled calls from investors and clients, but judging from what he had read in the Villain Weekly, this particular case also had bearing on the whole situation with the library. And the library seemed to be a big source of distress for both his father and his… maybe step-father-to-be?

He got up from his station and wondered where to go. The two Boxmore owners were shut in a bedroom until further orders from Fink, and after the war council of the previous night, he was inclined to trust her judgement on that. So, he trotted on to the kitchen, where she had to be having lunch at this time of day. It was Shannon’s turn to feed her.

“Good afternoon, Miss Fink!”

“Hey, Bathbomb,” Fink politely exchanged the greetings of the day through a mouth full of cheeseburger. Shannon snickered.

“I had a call from Mr. Billiam Milliam just now. He seems to be in a bit of a hurry.”

“Yeah, I got one before lunch, too,” Fink frowned. “Your dad is building his minebots, right?”

“He was supposed to be, anyway,” mumbled Ernesto.

“Well, if we just get him the robots more quickly, maybe he’ll just crush the library, and all our problems will be solved?” Shannon said.

“Can you do that?” Fink asked suspiciously. “Design other robots?”

“Hm… not from scratch,” Ernesto said thoughtfully. “But I think father has progressed enough with the blueprints that maybe Mikayla can finish the calculations.”

“And we know Darrell can run production flawlessly!” cheered Shannon.

“Wait, Mikayla? The cat?” Fink asked, befuddled. Both robots seemed scandalized.

“Mikayla is an accounting, analytics, and statistical simulations robot,” said Ernesto, secretly hoping it would go over Fink’s infant biological brain. It didn’t.

“Oooh, good at doing people’s math homework, huh?” Fink grinned.

“Aaaaanyway,” Shannon cut in, “we should definitely try it. If anything is missing in the designs, we always have our own schematics to draw from, so we can sooort of complete them, right?”

The plan was agreed on with a cheer, and they got to work immediately.

\---

On the other side of the metaphorical trenches, Billiam Milliam angrily, but daintily, disconnected the call. He’d only gotten one of the minions again. He always got one of the minions - either Venomous’s squeaky, insolent one, or Boxman’s slow, pompous one. And while as a villain he could appreciate insolence and pompousness, he appreciated them mostly when someone else was on the receiving end.

Why had he ever thought that ordering at Boxmore again was a good idea? Just because Venomous was now involved in it, too? He should have known that his order would most likely land in Boxman’s care, so why had he done it?

Oh. Right. They were still the biggest and cheapest producer. And he had not become a billionaire by actually _paying_ for things any more than he had to.

The newspapers were blowing the whole thing way out of proportion, in his opinion. If only he had the mining robots ready _before_ someone had apparently posted about it on FaceBox and that annoying news reporter Dynamite Watkins had caught a whiff of it all. He could have just rolled in, levelled the whole place to the ground, and then there would have been nothing for those heroes to do. He still could do that, if only Boxman, for once in his life, would actually do some work and keep a deadline!

The closer that cobbed exhibition was looming, the more complicated his situation became. Time to whisper, or shout, in the right ears...

\---

The “right ears” were currently ringing with the resolute “NO” of a pale and wide-eyed Boxman.

“What was _that_ supposed to be?!” He spluttered.

“I kissed you,” Venomous said carefully.

“What for??”

“Because I wanted to. And I thought you… I thought you did too.”

Boxman went bright red. “Well that’s no reason to just go and kiss people!”

“Uhm. It is?”

“But why would you??”

“I’ve always wanted to,” admitted Venomous, trying to soothe the panicked Boxman. “Even back when I was Laserblast. Only…” he gulped, “only I was stupid back then and thought that I couldn’t, since you were a villain and I was a hero.”

“Yes, I remember that speech quite well,” Boxman fluffed up. “But what do you _want_ , exactly?”

“Well...” he didn’t know what more he was supposed to add. “You?”

“Me? You want _me_?”

“Yes.”

“...” Boxman looked at him with eyes that said Error 404: file not found.

“I know, I should have said something sooner, all things considered, but...” He shook his head, trying to figure out how to express himself, for once. “What choice did I have other than to stall?” He bit his lip.

“Stall?” Boxman sounded completely bewildered.

“Look...” Venomous sighed, leaned back on his hands, stared up at the ceiling, and decided to explain from the start. “I’m not gonna lie. I was hoping that after I moved in here, we’d naturally get together. I was counting on it, in fact. I know very well that you’ve been attracted to me for a long time. Practically since you met me as I am now.”

“Was not!” Boxman squeaked, nervously looking away.

“Oh?” Venomous couldn’t help teasing, despite the seriousness of the conversation. Or maybe because of it. “So I misread the long, long hugs, private dinner invitations and attempts to go to villain parties with me?”

“I-it’s just how I do business! Y-you can ask the other villains!”

“I did.”

“Eep,” Boxman said eloquently and went pink. “T-they’re villains, they cannot be trusted to tell the truth!”

“Of course. And the first thing you did after you took over my house was to make a thoughtful tricycle of doom for Fink.”

“Gratitude! The least I could do for taking me in!”

“Which reminds me, you crawled into _my_ trashcan of all places to sleep in. The one _in my driveway_. Don’t even imagine that I actually bought for a second your explanation that it was a coincidence.”

“You’re a rich guy! Plenty of good stuff in that trash!”

“Your argument for letting you stay in my home was groping my chest.”

“Y-you have a n-nice chest,” mumbled a reddening Boxman, poking his fingers together. “You must work out a lot...”

“Uh-huh. And you were wearing my clothes.”

“All of mine were in the laundry,” said a Darrell-colored Boxman.

“Sure,” chuckled Venomous, then his smile faded a bit. “But the point is, you did all of that because I never said no, did I?”

“Huh?” Boxman looked at him with such a look of genuine surprise… _Cob, did he really never realize that before? And I always thought I was as obvious as a schoolboy with a crush._

“What I’m saying is that… I wanted you to do those things. I liked it. I… liked you. I _do_ like you,” he admitted with ease that surprised even himself. “I thought about just, I don’t know, jumping you, so many times. On Billiam’s yacht. At that wild dinner with the pie cannon. In my own cobbed home, when you were strutting around in nothing but a bath towel right outside my bedroom door, for Cob’s sake! Only...”

Boxman was staring at him wide-eyed now, looking completely befuddled. _Oh great cobalt-robed Cob am I just making things worse now?_

“Only it wouldn’t have ended there, for me. And I was left with the impression that you weren’t looking for anything casual either. Any sort of relationship, however, would have meant telling you about my past. And- and-” he suddenly couldn’t get the rest out fast enough. 

“And it always felt too early to do that. Too soon. Not the right time. Until I was suddenly moving in here and becoming business partners with you and jotting down ways to bond with your kids and it suddenly felt way, way too late to say anything. And then the tape happened, before I could tell you the truth myself, and I panicked.”

There was silence. Boxman’s face had morphed into something unreadable now and Venomous was sure he already knew how the conversation was going to end.

“So it’s not that I wanted to keep anything a secret from you,” he tried anyway, hoping the desperation in his voice wasn’t completely obvious. “I just didn’t want to start anything with you without telling you about my past first.”

The silence went on.

“And I… didn’t know how and when to tell you because I thought you might not want to have anything to do with me when I did,” he added, trying to fill it. It was too loud.

“So...” Boxman finally spoke. “All this time, you… you’ve actually been considering… _me_?”

“I wasn’t “considering” you.” Venomous went for blunt as a matter of fact. Even that was an understatement anyway. “I was ready to climb you like a ripe corn-stalk at any given moment. I am ready now.”

Boxman’s line of sight dropped into his silk-clad lap like a rock.

“Boxman!” He blushed furiously and crossed his legs immediately. “That’s not what I meant!”

“And how would I know?” squeaked an also blushing Boxman and suddenly hopped on his feet and started pacing and shaking his arms. _Oh my corn-syrupped brain, can’t you stop thinking how cute he is like that even now!_ “How was I supposed to know any of that if you didn’t tell me?! And what am I supposed to do with this information?”

“It’s not-”

“It was just supposed to be a crush!”

“What?” _Did I really miscalculate that badly?_ He felt the cold sweat again.

“Just a stupid crush! Like all the others!”

“The… _others_??”

“Yes! I get them all the time! That was all it was ever supposed to be!” Boxman was looking at him as if he was an idiot now. 

He probably was. He had never considered that what Boxman wanted wasn’t...

“Look, PV, and I’m gonna be honest here, too.” 

Venomous abstractedly realized it was going to be the first time he’d ever been on the receiving end of an “I’m just not into you that way” speech. The one time he actually needed it to work...

“I think I did have a crush on L- on _you_ back then. There’s the shoebox to prove it. But I’ve had dozens of them since! And none of them were ever meant to come to anything! I… I was busy trying to invent stuff; and then to start and run a business; and to raise six children; and to stay afloat in the villain community; and to have some nice, villainous fun like attacking the plaza. There is… simply no _place_ in my life for anything else. Especially not for playing useless games of who’s gonna pick up and then dump the other first.”

“It’s not a _game_ ,” hissed Venomous. It was the only thing he could say anything to. The rest of it was… crushing.

“I don’t know, PV.”

“Well then take my word for it!” He tried to rein in his temper. “I thought you’d be very angry with me for letting you think Laserblast was dead. I deserve it. I know that. And that matters to me. Because I… I don’t want to take advantage of you. I want to do better than last time,” he ended quietly.

“Then why are you doing this to me?” Boxman stomped a final round around the room and flopped on the bed next to him. “You just dumped on me out of the blue that good old Laser was never dead. That he- _you_ had a crush on me. That you’ve been thinking about a re-reh,” he stammered, “ _relationship_ all this time while I was oblivious. I have no idea where all of this is coming from. I… I don’t know what’s happening.”

It went straight through Venomous’s cold, villainous heart how genuinely lost Boxman sounded. It didn’t suit him at all. Boxman was right. And Venomous hated himself for doing this to him. Seeing Boxman like that hurt.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and he meant it. “I mishandled it, I know. I just… didn’t want you to leave.”

“PV...” Boxman gave him that sparkly, tear-filled look that he so, so did not deserve. “So you really want this? You want… _me_?”

“Yes. If you’d have me.”

“It’s just...” he chuckled nervously, “such a mess. I need to think about all this.”

“I understand.”

They sat in silence again, on the edge of Venomous’s bed, with the sun on their backs and the black and red shoebox with the Laserblast sticker on it between them, until Venomous couldn’t stand to look at his old face between him and Boxman anymore. He pushed it back on the bed, gathered his courage, and touched his fingertips to Boxman’s hand again, the left one.

“So that’s… not a “no” then, is it?” he asked quietly and hopefully.

Boxman looked down at where his fingertips were gently tracing the segments of the rough skin.

“PV...” Boxman sighed and caught his fingers in his hand. “Of course it’s not a no. I just… I just need some time.”

“I understand,” whispered Venomous.

His vision blurred as he laced his fingers with Boxman’s and brought his hand to his lips. He placed a tender, careful kiss there and squeezed it gently. Boxman squeezed back.

They exchanged a look, and then Boxman smiled a little, scuttered closer to him and put his head on his shoulder, still holding their hands entwined. For the first time since that whole uncobly mess had started, Venomous felt a genuine hope spark inside him.

\---

“Oh my Cob” declared Raymond, “it is a _masterpiece_. This is the most handsome robot to leave Boxmore since my creation!”

“You’re just saying that because he looks like _you_ , only… bulkier,” Ernesto said, sounding resigned.

“I’ll have you know that size is not what counts!” Raymond said and winked flirtily at the world in general.

“That’s right! What counts is that it has my arms! And weapons!” said Shannon happily.

“They’re not weapons, they’re mining equipment, dummy,” said an annoyed Darrell. None of his own designs had made it into the minebots.

“I AM JETHRO.”

“You’re right, they do look like weapons,” Ernesto patted the smaller robot.

“And none of all that would have been possible without my boss’s glorb-detector!” Fink puffed out her chest, dripping with self-satisfaction. “The minebots would be as good as self-propelled shovels without it!”

“Yeah, your boss’s invention would be useless without the minebots, more like. Its range is almost as short as you!” Darrell snapped back at her.

“MIKAYLA!” said Mikayla before another small fight could break out. “Mikayla Mikayla Mikayla?”

“Hm? What do you mean are we sure?” Ernesto tapped his non-existent mouth, in a gesture oddly reminiscent of his father. “I mean, I guess minebots do need a glorb storage, and if Lord Father designed it that way, it must be right.”

“Yeah, he designed _me_ , after all. He’s always right.” Raymond added matter-of-factly.

“Well not always,” Shannon grinned. “Once upon a time he designed Darrell, too!”

As it turned out, robots did have tongues, for whatever reason, because the two siblings stuck their tongues out at each other.

“Toasters,” Fink mumbled and rolled her eyes. “Hey, I’m going to have lunch and then come back to help with the stupid minebots. If your stupid dad hasn’t left my boss alone by then, though, I suggest we go see what’s up.”

“Fine, but I, for one, am _not_ knocking on that door. Biological forms can be so gross,” Raymond crossed his arms.

A chorus of “me neither”-s and “nuh-huh”-s sounded.

“Well don’t look at me! My fragile infant psyche may be scarred for life!” Fink growled.

“Pfft, you’re way older than an infant!” Darrell crossed his arms. “Stop milking it!”

“Mikayla!” Mikayla exclaimed before things could escalate.

“Ok, fine. She’s right. We’ll draw straws,” Ernesto rolled his eye.

\---

Venomous gently floated into consciousness to the sensation of something very warm and very soft pressed to him. For a while he thought it must be a pillow, but there was also that wonderful, exciting smell. _Hmm, where have I smelled it?_ , he wondered lazily as he nuzzled into something fluffy. The tip of his nose touched metal.

His eyes flew open, the alarms in his mind blaring at full volume and his heart pumping more adrenaline than blood.

_Boxman._

He looked down in terror and realized he was wrapped as tightly as a boa around the wonderful, warm, soft, adorable… _Get it together Venomous_ … around Boxman. And he was stirring.

“Up already,” he mumbled into his chest while Venomous was still frozen in shock. _Oh Cob I can_ feel _him mumble into my chest._

“Hey, PV,” Boxman said and Venomous was just not ready to be looked up at by an adorable, warm, puffy, sleepy Boxman in chicken-patterned PJs with Venomous’s own pajama button still imprinted on his forehead. He was a mortal man (mostly) of flesh and blood and was just not strong enough for such a sight.

“Hey,” he managed, in the same breath his soul left his body with.

“You, he-heh, you kind of fell asleep on me.” Boxman said and scratched his tuft of hair. “And I didn’t feel like leaving you alone.”

Good thing his soul had already left, because that last bit would have destroyed it, Venomous thought abstractly. _He didn’t feel like leaving me alone._

“I guess it was a, uh, a long night for both of us, eh?” Boxman went on, not making the slightest move to disentangle himself from Venomous’s grip. Who also didn’t have any intention of loosening his hold until prompted to do so. Or kicked off.

“Torturously so,” he managed, sincerely.

“Hey PV,” Boxman said after a pause, drawing doodles with his finger on Venomous’s silky pajamas. “I have a question.”

“Anything.”

“Are you happy now? I mean, now that you’re a villain, and a scientist, and, you know, _Professor Venomous_?”

That was the last thing he had expected to hear, and yet it made sense to ask him. Only he had no idea how to answer truthfully.

“I… am certainly happy _-er_ ,” he tried. “And now I feel that I’m doing what I was always supposed to do.”

“So that’s your job. That’s good, but what about the rest of it?”

“Well...” he thought about it. “I have Fink, which is good. I love her.”

“Is that something you always wanted? A kid?”

“She’s a minion.”

Boxman gave him the stink eye.

“Alright, alright.” He sighed. “Not really. I could not have raised a kid with Silver Spark even if my life depended on it. But looking after Fink kind of grew on me, after I had her.”

“Silver was your girlfriend, right? So I take it that a happy family also isn’t what you want.”

“I am very open to big, crazy, extremely loud families that try their best to get by and explode only occasionally.”

“Still remember that one, eh?” Boxman chuckled.

“I have never been so traumatized in my whole life,” Venomous deadpanned. “And I’m someone who faked their own death at one point.”

Boxman snickered and they were silent for a bit, while Venomous frowned and continued to think about the question. Why couldn’t he honestly say he was happy now? Especially now that he seemed to have a real shot with Boxman?

“I’m… still the same person, despite all the changes,” he tried. “I still feel the same _need_ to be the best and strongest and most powerful around, and it’s harder than ever, considering I lost my powers in that donut shop incident. It’s not bad for a villain to feel that way, but… it takes its toll.”

“But you built all this fame and fortune in only 6-11 years!” Boxman looked up at him with surprise and excitement. “From zero! And you’re so cool and smart and in control and-” he abruptly shut up and hid his face back in Venomous’s chest. “You’re the best anyway, is what I’m saying, so why worry about any of _that_?”

Venomous wanted to weep with joy. And kiss Boxman. And hug him even tighter. And have his babies.

“You’re pretty great yourself,” he said instead and nuzzled in his hair. _Speaking of having people’s babies, though…_ “Listen, Boxman, there’s one last thing I need to tell-”

BANG-BANG-BANG

“Are you awake, Boss! Did Boxbutt do anything to you! Boss!”

“Oh sweet corn soup...” Venomous sighed through gritted teeth and then said louder, “We’re fine, Fink! You can come in.”

“I can??” The door remained closed.

“She can??” Boxman wriggled in his constrictor grip and Venomous reluctantly loosened it.

“It’s alright Fink, come in,” he sighed again, sitting up.

“Is it safe?” Fink asked, opening the door with one hand in front of her eyes. “Are you dressed? Am I going to be scarred forever?”

“Fink, please.” Venomous pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’ve talked about this.”

“You have??” Boxman shout-whispered, looking scandalized. “Just how far ahead _have_ you planned this whole thing with romancing me?”

“Uhm...” Venomous absolutely did not blush.

“Oooh I’m going to kill those robots that set me up with the short straw if I see _one!_ bare! ankle!” Fink growled, hand still over her eyes.

“Don’t worry. Boxman is wearing adowabwe wittle fwuffy socks,” Venomous said sweetly. Too sweetly.

“Ewwwwwww Boss, ewww!” Venomous laughed at the indignant squeaks. Boxman looked at him starry-eyed.

“So you’re alright now?” Fink finally removed her hand and bounced to her boss’s knee. “You’re not fighting anymore?” she asked suspiciously. 

Venomous petted her hair and looked to Boxman, who offered a sheepish grin and a shrug.

“As alright as we can be for now,” he told her, and then added. “We’re also starving. Can you please go order Boxman and me something nice?”

“Of course, Boss,” she said, giving Boxman a dirty look on her way out.

“And I, he-heh, better go get presentable then. The day is mostly gone, but maybe I can still do some work on the minebots.”

“Alright,” Venomous nodded, only slightly disappointed that they couldn’t go back to cuddling on his bed. “I think I’ll have the day off, though. I can start worrying about that tape again from tomorrow,” he offered a weak smile. “If you’re still on board with helping me?”

“Of course I am, PV,” Boxman gave him a lovely maniacal grin that he so wanted to kiss off his face. “Catch you in a bit,” he added over his shoulder on his way out, complete with a finger-gun. Ridiculous. _Ridiculously cute._

“Wait! You forgot the box.”

“Oh. Ah...” Boxman shrugged. “You can keep it, if you like. It’s all your stuff anyway.” 

“But… you kept it this long.”

“I have _you_ now, PV,” said Boxman and smiled at him, as if he meant to say something more. But then he just turned around and left, the door closing quietly behind him.

The cute, blushy and flustered Boxy that Venomous was used to was certainly great, he thought, but he had to admit there was something incredibly reassuring and exciting about this other Boxman who was absolutely unafraid of anything Venomous could throw his way. _Maybe this time it will really work_ , he thought hopefully as he picked up the shoebox and put it on his nightstand.

\---

The very, very late lunch had been delicious, made even more so by the presence of a slightly less blushy and more smiley Boxman, and by the fact that it had been blissfully robot-free. To his surprise, Boxman told him that apparently his kids and Fink were playing in his workshop. It didn’t even occur to Venomous to worry about unsupervised kids playing in a factory, which said something about his trust in Boxman.

The news had also been mostly library-free, with only a brief mention that the protest continued and the exhibition would open “soon.” So Venomous had been looking forward to a quiet remainder of the day spent playing with Fink and online-shopping for a new bonsai tree. 

He had decidedly _not_ wanted to have Billiam Milliam berating him in his own office about the incompetence of Boxmore.

“Look, Billiam, I understand your concern, especially given your previous dealings with my business partner,” _my adorable soft round Boxy_ “but the order is moving on schedule,” _or not, who knows_ , “and I’m afraid speeding it up will compromise the quality, which is just not an option when dealing with glorbs. You know that.”

“Haven’t you been listening to the news? I can’t afford to wait for that lump Boxman to twiddle his thumbs while my glorb mine is getting away from me because of some motley bunch of heroes!” 

_You say that one more time about him and I’ll turn you into a true crime podcast_ , hissed Venomous internally, then sweetly said, “Yes, that would seem to be a bigger problem than the speed of our production lines, wouldn’t it? How did you even land in the middle of that glorb mess, by the way?”

“Cosma’s satellites found the possible deposit during a scan for hero activity. Lakewood is positively crawling with heroes these days, wouldn’t you say? I can’t stand them,” he added with a posh shudder.

“Yes, it offers wonderful business opportunities for Boxmore,” said Venomous and went on sweet-talking the disgruntled billionaire, stashing his anger as well as the tidbit of very interesting info away for future reference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic comment writing pro!tip 6:  
> I'd love to know if you had any emotions while you read this! Please, tell me about them! Come on! How often does it happen for someone to beg you to talk to them about your emotions? I know it doesn’t happen to me! So now’s your chance!


	8. Thursday: Of library staff and helpers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the love of Voxman, do not do any of these things to any librarian. There isn’t enough quiet disdain in the world to subject you to if you do.

Librarian Shamrock looked at the design for the new big poster they wanted to put up on the library doors and on a stand-up sign outside. It read “Book lovers, let’s get lost in a book tonight!” It was a good design, but surely, it wouldn’t hurt if they made the font a little smaller, say, 14? Except for the “get lost” part, _that_ was going all the way up to 1280.

Six hours earlier…

...Venomous had a placid, slightly vague expression on his face as he breathed in his tea while the early morning Boxmore chaos happened around him, mercifully free of explosions. A good night’s rest often managed to render him even more useless than complete lack of sleep, and he’d had a wonderful night, dreaming about being wrapped around a soft, warm, round, fluffy, adorable…

“Boooss!” Fink was waving her hand in his face. “Boss, are you here? Tell Boxbutt I can’t eat milk with nuts!”

“Hmmm? Why not, darling?” Venomous said happily, staring to the middle distance. “They’re good for you.”

“Nuts as in nuts and _bolts_!” Fink shouted.

“For the last time, Stink, they’re not real! They’re just cereal shaped like nuts and bolts!” Boxman, regretfully fully-dressed, shouted from atop the kitchen counter.

“Don’t care! Still gross!”

“What, you’re too good to eat the same stuff as us, _princess_?” Darrell poured even more oil into his cup and also into the metaphorical fire.

“You are literally a walking toaster, you-” Fink couldn’t continue on account of being snatched off the table and snuggled into Venomous’s lap. He veritably coiled around her and propped his chin on her head.

“Eat your cereal, sweetie.”

“Ok,” squeaked a suddenly obedient and embarrassed Fink.

“Quiet, quieeeeeet everyone!” Shouted Boxman, turning on the TV. “We need to hear the news!”

“...and that we finally have a date for the exhibition! The brand-new posters put the opening this Saturday, in only two days, and organizers tell us that all of the equipment and facilities are ready to accommodate the expected crowds of donors. Apparently, a strong villain presence is also expected, such as the now-retired...”

“Equipment and facilities?” Shannon asked curiously, as the news droned on.

“They mean the bathrooms, daughter mine,” Boxman translated, beating an asparagus tentacle back into its pan. “It’s a biological thing.”

“I AM JETHRO?”

“You need something called a video cassette recorder to play tapes, Jethro. And if they’re putting up pictures, I guess they need boards or something, too. That’s the equipment,” Boxman explained while he dished out cups of motor oil.

“What’s a cassette recorder, boss?” Fink asked distractedly from her cosy spot in her boss’s lap. The cheese-and-unidentified-vegetables-with-tentacles omelet smelled a lot better than her cereal.

“Heh, I guess you’re too young to remember those, eh?” Venomous smiled fondly at her. “Here, let me show you,” he said and took out his phone and opened up the Poodle search engine.

“So PV,” Boxman said as he slid a full plate in front of him, “I still think our best bet is checking out any banks and lawyers that could be keeping the tape for the library people.”

“Here, Fink, this is what it looks like. And yes, Boxman, probably. I’ll make some calls after breakfast, see what I can find out.”

“Hey, I’ve seen this before!” Fink said with one finger dipped in the cheese dripping from her boss’s omelet. “Several, actually.”

“Where?” asked Ernesto, also peeking over Venomous’s shoulder. “This looks ancient.”

“There was a bunch of students at the library taking apart a few of these. I saw them when I was distracting the librarian that time, when Shannon and I got caught.”

“Huh? Where was that? Why didn’t we see them?” Raymond asked, also leaning in. Shannon hopped on his back.

“Those guys at the discussion area? Is that what they were doing?”

“PV!”

“BOXMAN!”

“I know where the tape is!!” The two adults shouted at the same time, to a background of unimpressed stares.

“Oh, Fink, you’re a little genius just like your, er, boss!” Boxman chirruped and gave Fink a nice big smooch on the cheek.

\---

Rad, Enid and K.O., who were just getting in Carol’s car to be driven to the protest and to school, respectively, swayed at the powerful EWWW blowing from Boxmore. They shrugged once it died down into the hills and resumed fastening their seat belts.

\---

“ _Your_ minion may have helped us find where the tape is, but _my_ children are going to help us get it!” Boxman exclaimed proudly from the middle of the kitchen table, and in order to sway the crowd, added innocently, “You won’t let yourselves be outdone by this smart little lady here, will you, _dear children_?” Venomous managed to catch Fink before she bit off the taloned hand that had tried to pet her hair at that.

“No way!” the robots shouted in unison.

\---

The first time that librarian Shamrock realized they were going to have an interesting day was when a very nice, yellow, robotic… cat? hopped up on the counter of the librarians’ station and started purring.

“Oh! Where did you come from?” they asked aloud and reached out to grab the maybe-feline. That was when, _of course_ , it hopped into the station and started running in circles and occasionally up and down the startled librarian themself. They completely missed the inconspicuous group of a rugby player, an artist, a ballerina on tracks, an accountant, and one cool young punk that escaped from the closed stacks at high speed.

By the time the robotic menace had escaped the librarian’s clutches twice and had managed to climb on top of a bookshelf to hiss down at them, a happy “YAAAAAAY” resounded from the kids’ play area. Just when the jumping librarian thought they’d have to go check that out as soon as they got the cat-thingy down, a blue ballerina on tracks whizzed by them with a gleefully screaming toddler riding on its head.

“What in Cob’s name… don’t these parents read my posters??”

The librarian made to run after the ballerina, but as soon as they turned their back, eight claws stuck to the back of their wooly sweater. They yelped loudly and then immediately slapped both hands over their mouth. One of the interns in the discussion area hurried over.

“What… is that a robotic cat?”

“Ed, getitoffgetitoffgetitoff!”

“Oh I love cats, come here, sweetheart...” said Ed and gently disconnected the cat bot from their sweater.

The cat-like robot started to purr sweetly, and Ed could have sworn it sounded just like she was saying “Mikayla” through purrs.

“Thank you! Please, be a dear and take care of it, I have a turbo ballerina to catch,” Shamrock said and sped off in the direction the small blue robot had buzzed off to.

“Turbo ballerina..?” Ed stared at the rapidly retreating back, and then at the cat robot. “Do you understand any of this, meow-sies?” The two of them looked at each other lovingly for a moment. In the next, the yellow robot morphed into an egg, slipped from the startled intern’s grip, and made off towards the second floor, making very sure she was being followed.

Shamrock did a full round of the first floor of the library very definitely not running, because that was _not done_ in libraries, and finally caught up with the blue robot in the kids’ play area where two more lucky toddlers were fighting for the dubious honor of riding the ballerina next. As soon as the ballerina saw the librarian, it rolled away, shouting “I AM JETHRO,” in a voice very inappropriate for a library, both toddlers riding on top. _Where are these kids’ parents?_

One kid started to slide down at a dangerous angle from the ballerina’s rounded dome. Shamrock ran this time, but the robot only sped up.

As if all that wasn’t enough, the desk bell rang loudly. Someone rather impatient needed help. Shamrock made an L-turn, sped by the librarian’s station whisper-shouting a “Be right with you!” and almost crashed into the back of one of the chairs in the discussion area.

“Ivan! Kids’ area, ballerina on tracks, _please_ help! I need to get the desk!”

“A what on what?” Ivan stared up. The bell kept ringing loudly, to the growing disapproval of several library patrons.

“Please? You’re good with kids, aren’t you?”

“Alright, alright, got it, you go and I’ll take care of-” the blue robot sped behind Shamrock with now three giggling toddlers on top. “Is that a ballerina on tracks??”

“I AM JETHRO!”

The librarian gave him an expressive eye-roll and pushed him in the right direction before slicking back their by then rather mussed short red hair and heading to the station and the bell.

“How can I help you, sir?”

“Finally, I thought I would never get any assistance around here,” a rotund purple robot, Ernesto, going by his badge said with the most pompous voice Shamrock had ever heard. “I need some help with your search options.”

“Ehm, alright, please show me your computer and we’ll see what we can do.” The catbot hopped in the background, stopped to wave a tail-charger at Shamrock, and hopped on, followed by a wheezing Ed.

“I’m looking for a friendly holiday destination for those of the mechanical persuasion, but there is just so little information about safe destinations for a traveling single robot!”

“Uhm. Do you often feel unsafe when you travel?” Shamrock eyed the huge, bulky frame and shiny steel of the snappy robot, completely unaware of the ballerina on tracks passing behind them, followed by a bunch of scuttering toddlers and a panicking Ivan who was trying to pick them up.

“You wouldn’t believe the horror stories I hear!” The wary traveler exclaimed loudly, seemingly doing his best to channel the most annoying of library patrons, from those who simply could not understand that Shamrock couldn’t magically produce a book someone else had checked out to the ones scandalized by the mere existence of books containing sex or (Cob forbid!) critical thinking. He kept the librarian answering tech questions at his computer desk for ten minutes, before delivering his final blow.

“This is unacceptable! I demand to see the manager!”

“This is a library, sir,” Shamrock squeezed through tightly gritted teeth. Then they perked up with sudden inspiration. “But if you wait a moment, I can bring you someone more tech-savvy to help you with your inquiries.”

He magnanimously agreed and the librarian sped off back to the discussion area.

“Emery! Help me, please! There’s this guy who just won’t. shut. _up_. I need you to keep him occupied for a few minutes so I can help Ed and Ivan.”

Emery didn’t seem ecstatic, but eventually they too succumbed in service to librarianship and went off to be a trip-planner.

Shamrock took a deep breath and headed back to the play-area to see what was happening, when a rather large wall of orange caught their eye. They stopped and stared at the also orange and rather metallic girl with the purple wig and colorful dress that was happily shelving a stack of books hugged to her chest.

“Excuse me miss, what are you doing?”

“Oh! Just shelving these books,” she said nonchalantly.

“You really don’t have to, we librarians do that.”

“It’s no trouble, really,” the girl said, beaming. “Your organization was awful before! I’m just improving it.”

_Improving it._

“How, exactly?”

“Why, so glad you asked! I’m arranging them _by color_! I’ve only got yellow and white left, and then I can do the second floor, too! Isn’t it great? I guess it takes an artist’s eye to spot how this way is so much better!”

Shamrock was quite sure they were having a stroke. 

“You… you monster...”

“Sorry? I didn’t catch that?”

“YOU PHILISTINE!”

The girl didn’t look like she had any idea what that meant, but darted away fast enough to leave a cloud of dust, while the librarian stared at the rows of perfectly color-coordinated books, gently going from one end of the spectrum to another. They sobbed quietly a little when they realized some of the books weren’t even from the same library floor.

“Hey, librarian, are you alright?” someone said behind them.

“Oh my Cob, what happened?” someone else gasped.

“Tarra, Draga… girls...” Shamrock whispered. “Look at what this monster has done...” They waved a hand at the bibliophilic rainbow. The two girls hugged each other and stared in horror, too, having realized only now how the shelves looked.

The ballerina whirred by, slowly. Likely slowed by Ivan’s weight.

“We’ll take care of this,” Tarra said and patted Shamrock’s back.

“Yes, I remember everything you taught me during the internship,” Draga added solemnly.

“And I remember that I caught you making out with Tarra then,” deadpanned Shamrock.

“Won’t happen again,” both girls laughed nervously and looked away.

The librarian warily agreed to let them help. Then they bravely took a deep breath and soldiered on. They even successfully made it back to the station before a very disgruntled lady stomped up to them.

“Librarian, I demand that you tell that awful, weird person to leave our group immediately! He’s eating all our snacks!”

“What awful, weird- Wait, why do you have _snacks_? This is a _library!_ ” Shamrock exclaimed, with vehemence that was quite unusual for them.

“How rude! We’re an eco-friendly farming support group! How else would we share products?”

“Perhaps you could meet on someone’s eco-friendly farm!” was what Shamrock wanted to say, but then they spotted a familiar cool baseball hat with a green tuft sticking out of it and instead said a quiet “Oh no,” followed by a louder “Lazaro! With me!”

Lazaro, a rather large and imposing individual, followed the librarian timidly.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Shamrock demanded from the very cool young punk. “Do you crash all support groups?”

“I’m appalled, librarian, appalled!” He said dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’m extremely interested in this group in particular! The life and treatment of free-range chickens is very close to my heart _and_ my gizzard!” He explained, wiggled his eyebrows and bared his chicken arm. Shamrock facepalmed.

“Alright then,” they said quietly. “Lazaro, please stay with this gentleman while he discusses the freedoms of his brethren and if he steps out of line, don’t hesitate to throw him out.”

Librarian Shamrock wasn’t even surprised when, on their way back to the station, they passed by Miki, one of the two interns and student helpers left, who was giggling and apparently groping the biceps ( _Do robots even have biceps?_ ) of a robot clad in full rugby getup who sparkled like a boyband member. Normally, Shamrock would have torpedoed out all attempts at romancing in the library, as Tarra and Draga could testify, but this time they didn’t even bother. What was the worst they could do? It might even distract the kids enough to get them off the ballerina on tracks. Which whizzed past just then, right on cue, wearing Ivan’s hat.

Shamrock collapsed into their chair at the librarians’ station and dropped their head in their hands. 

“Oh Cob what have I done to deserve this…? Is this your attempt to make me _not_ miss the library before they demolish it?” they mumbled.

“Excuse me! I say, excuse me!” drawled a pleasant accented voice. “Is this where I can make a donation to the cause of the library?”

_Finally, one good thing. Thank you, Cob._

“Yes sir! This is the place!” Shamrock stood up and beheld what appeared to be a cowboy. As if the day could get any weirder. “We have the donation box right here, and you can check our goal statement right over there on that board. How much would you like to contribute?”

“Oh, it’s not money,” he dismissed the idea with a laugh. “It’s much better!”

“It is?”

The cowboy silently hoisted and then dumped on the counter a person-sized domed brain.

“Nohemiiiiiiii!” shouted Shamrock, not caring for library rules anymore. The last student who had been tinkering in the discussion area jumped out of her skin and sprinted over.

\---

A little after Darrell had gone in, Fink swiped her library card through the reader, adjusted her backpack one more time and walked into the library. 

“Hey there, librarian Shamrock!” She greeted them with her cutest girly-girl impersonation. The librarian, currently busy pushing a brain-dome back at a certain cowboy, popped up over the station’s counter and looked around. “Down here,” Fink added magnanimously.

“Oh! Hello!” The look in Shamrock’s eyes was only moderately wild. “Can I help you?”

“Thanks for getting me that library card last time. My, uhm, dad is not a big fan of libraries.” There had been a chorus of disagreements about giving her the star role of this heist, but her ownership of a real legitimate library card had been the deciding factor. She was very proud of it.

“Always a pleasure,” they said in the sing-song voice of someone about to have a breakdown.

“I can see you’re busy, so I’ll just browse around, shall I?”

“Juuust call if you need anything!”

“Uh-huh. Where’s the self-checkout, just in case?”

“Just by the flirting rugby player. Mind the cat and the ballerina.”

“Gotcha,” Fink said and strode in. 

\---

Venomous, in the meantime, was sweating all by himself in the getaway van. According to plan, he was to collect all the robot kids and drive them back to the factory, and Boxman was to stay with Fink and take her home. Waiting was a torture, especially at the sight of so many angry heroes. 

So, he had never been happier to see Shannon when she rocketed out of the library doors, stopped, very casually walked around the whole square and only then hopped in the parked van. 

Raymond and Ernesto came out rather later, having stalled for as long as they could. Raymond had someone’s number written on his carapace and Ernesto was mumbling about paid yearly vacations and beaches.

Darrell, to Venomous’s wide-eyed shock, returned _without_ the giant pickled brain dome he had walked in with (and Cob, had _that_ been a joy to lug over to the library, even in a van). Venomous didn’t dare ask how he had managed to donate it.

Jethro and Mikayla returned last, Jethro still in the ballerina outfit and Mikayla with someone’s knitted hat on her head. As soon as Raymond helped them up into the van, Venomous floored the gas and drove off.

“Hey, uhm, kids,” he started after the initial chatter died down a bit. “I probably need to tell you something.”

Suddenly there was a silence at the back of the van he very much did not like. No going back, though, he had promised.

“We, uhm... Your father and I have been talking these past two days and...”

The silence suddenly turned very eager, somehow. He could practically feel the stares boring into his back.

“And I may have mentioned that I like him and would he like...” he coughed.

The silence _burned_ his back.

“And you should go pester _him_ for the answer, because he sure as Cob didn’t give _me_ one, is all,” he finished, panicking, and willed himself to shrink into oblivion. _Outstanding, Venomous, A+ step-parenting._

All of the robots gave each other meaningful looks, and knew that a new war council needed to be had the same evening.

\---

Fink and Boxman stepped out of the library and very nonchalantly headed to the park behind it. 

“How are we getting home, again?” Fink asked suspiciously.

“By the coolest means possible,” Boxman chuckled and kept on walking, until they reached a particularly bushy bush some way into the park.

“Huh??”

Boxman grabbed her, pushed a button and hopped in the bush. Before they could hit branches, though, his flying desk rose up and caught them. They lifted up like a rocket and then the desk headed home to Boxmore at a more sedate speed.

“Ok, this _is_ kind of cool,” mumbled Fink, absolutely not holding on to Boxman’s jacket for safety.

“Told ya!” he grinned and very casually put a protective hand on Fink’s shoulder, making sure she didn’t fall off. She deigned not to notice.

After a bit of silence from her and a bit of pointing out different landmarks on Boxman’s part, she reached into her backpack, took out a “Rickey Rats Saves Cobsmas” tape and handed it to Boxman.

“For you.”

“Heh?” He took it and opened the box. “Ooooh! Is this it?”

“Well, it’s the only one that had “Laserblast” on it.”

“Great! I’m sure PV will be over the remains of the moon to see it!”

“No, I’m giving it to _you_.” Fink said, not looking at him.

“Huh?” He looked at Fink’s frown. “Why me?” he asked more softly.

“Because for whatever stupid reason he likes you, and you’ve liked him for forever, and you two are driving me up the wall! Either get together or don’t! You are worse than the TV dramas Raymond watches!” Fink fumed, cheeks puffed. Boxman was left with the distinct impression that that was not all of it, but what did he know about biological minions?

“I’ve liked him for forever, eh? And how, may I ask, do you know that?” He asked instead.

“I maaay have done a- a thorough background check on you before I let Boss move in here,” Fink confessed to her left foot.

“Oh?”

“Like, I looked into your bank and tax info and POW card and villainy stats and medical history and, uhm, bedroom closet.”

“Ah.”

“What! I couldn’t let him move in with just anyone!” Fink puffed angrily and kicked the desk.

“That… was actually very good thinking...”

“Was that surprise I heard??” Fink fumed.

“No, no, I meant, it makes sense that such a thorough, ehm, minion like you would find out everything so… efficiently,” Boxman rubbed his neck and offered a blushy smile, pulling away any appendages Fink might bite.

“Of course I did,” she huffed, slightly pacified.

“So I passed the check then, did I?” Boxman’s smile turned softer.

“... I’m still keeping an eye on you,” grumbled Fink and looked away.

They sat there for a bit while Boxman toyed with the tape in his hands.

“Boxboss,” Fink gulped, “are you mad at me?”

“Oh.” He realized he had been ominously silent and smiled. “Of course I’m not mad at you. PV is lucky to have you in his corner.”

“He’s not very good at this stuff, you know,” Fink generously evaluated her boss. “Don’t be mad at him. Just watch the stupid tape and it’ll all be solved, right?”

“I’m not mad, I’m just...” Boxman’s face fell and he struggled a bit with words. “A lot has happened and I just need some time to sort it out, that’s all,” he tried the best kid-friendly version he could compose.

Fink just looked at him skeptically.

“I’ll give PV the tape when we get home, and we’ll sort it out, Fink, I promise.”

“Alright,” she said after a moment. “I still don’t know what Boss sees in you, Boxbutt,” she grumbled and then stayed silent for the rest of their flight home.

As soon as the desk flew into his office, Fink hopped off and hurried to leave. But she paused at the door, just for a second, and looked back at Boxman. He managed to give her a cheery wave before she blushed and slammed it shut.

\---

The world of supervillainy was, metaphorically, one of the biggest, baddest buckets of exclusive, overpowered and dubiously-dressed crabs - it was hard to get in, practically impossible to get out alive, and you got trampled on, bitten, pinched and sassed constantly by other crabs with the exact same ambition and problems as you. And, well, get someone’s claw enough many times in your eye, and that’s a sort of friendship all on its own.

So when a Billiam, in a pinch, offered the other villains in his bucket the opportunity to have a lovely diversion attacking heroes, all expenses paid by him, they all turned off their news bulletins and agreed. The only condition was that they got the heroes far, far away from Lakewood to battle them. So, that same night, a lot of distress beacons lit and a lot of heroes, one by one or in groups, quietly left Lakewood city square.

Each of them thought, well, everyone else is here, what’s one less hero?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic comment writing pro!tip 7:  
> If you're not sure what to write, you can write simple, straightforward comments, like “I’m looking forward to seeing how this story wraps up!” And no, there’s no need to overthink if that sounds like “I can’t wait to see the back of this trash,” like I do. I promise that fic authors take comments at face value!


	9. Friday: On the topic of stealing from libraries

Librarian Shamrock stared with wide eyes at a library poster that read “Libraries are for everyone! Please, don’t steal from them. Individuals caught stealing will have to live with the horrible guilt for the rest of their lives.” They leaned on a reading table and tried to control their breathing, to focus on something, to breathe, not to burst into tears, to just breathe.

“We’re so very sorry, librarian!” said Ed, one of the interns surrounding them. “We checked everywhere. We even agreed to check each other’s backpacks. It’s just… gone.”

“And I swear we’ve never left it out of sight! It was always there, in a pile with the rest of the materials for the exhibition,” Lazaro pointed to the discussion area.

“Yeah. We even asked around to see if the other patrons may have taken it by mistake, but nobody had it,” Emery added.

“Carol...” Shamrock managed through grinding teeth, eyes squeezed. That had been their last chance, however slim, to save the library. “Find Carol. If she’s not out with the protesters, she’s at Lakewood Plaza Turbo.”

\---

The morning started a lot better at Boxmore, where Venomous opened his eyes to the wonderful sight of morning light filtering through the blinds, outlining the stack of items on his nightstand: a pile of papers that were Boxman’s article on wormholes underneath a black-and-red shoebox which itself was underneath a Rickey Rats Saves Cobsmas tape. Occasionally, life was good.

He grabbed the tape, opened the box and looked at the old sticker saying “Laserblast organizes Rippy’s birthday” in Carol’s neat handwriting. _Oh, yeah, I did that for her. She was happy._ It was actually a rather good memory from his days in POINT.

Now, though, the tape meant something completely different to him. Boxman had handed it over quite casually the previous day, without any explanation as to why he had it and not Fink. She had also not been forthcoming. He frowned a bit. The Cob-forsaken thing had nearly cost him his very fragile position next to Boxman. It would have - by all of Venomous’s estimations it should have - only… Boxman had surprised him. Forgiveness was a new, if not unwelcome concept to him, and he still wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

A knock on his door pulled him from his musings.

“Hey, PV,” he was greeted by Boxman’s backside. Not that Venomous minded, but… “Funny story, he-heh, the kids for some reason made me bring this to you up here.”

The rest of Boxman got in and it turned out that he was carrying a tray of stuff that smelled amazing.

“Are you… bringing me breakfast in bed?”

“Should I take it back?”

“NO!” He absolutely did not blush at his own volume. The tray materialized on his lap in a moment. He mumbled his thanks.

“Is, ehm, is everything alright, PV?”

“Hm? You mean with the tape?” Boxman’s apparent lack of interest in it had been gnawing at him.

“I don’t know, really. I thought you’d be, I don’t know, happier to get it back?”

Venomous could see that he seemed worried, and it was not a look he liked to see on his Boxy.

“I’ve been thinking, is all. Why haven’t you asked me to see what’s on it?”

“Oh.” Boxman poked a talon at his lips. “I thought you’d just destroy it or something.”

“But you showed me your box of… stuff.”

“Heh, it’s your stuff anyway. Look, PV,” he went on before Venomous could object. “It’s your past, your life, and you don’t have to show me or tell me anything you don’t want. You’re a… a private person, I get it.”

After a lifetime full of people who had to be kept out of his secrets at any cost, the sheer wave of relief he felt at that took him by surprise.

“Alright,” he said, smiling a little. “Then do you want to share the breakfast?”

“There’s plenty more back in the kitchen-”

“Say Aaah!”

Venomous scooped up a spoonful of the divine-smelling unidentifiable substance and lifted it to Boxman’s mouth. He was quite prepared to play helicopters and hangars like he had done when Fink had been a baby.

He was quite self-satisfied to know he still could make Boxman steam and blush as red as a traffic light without even saying anything actually suggestive. Boxman wiggled and sweated and when the spoon didn’t relent, he finally gulped it in one lightning-speed go. _So cute._

“You know, ” Boxman said when he was done blushing. “I’ve been meaning to tell you… Even if your past did get revealed, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Just saying! I don’t think it should be!” He waved his hands at Venomous’s raised eyebrow. “But… you’ve really built everything in your career as a villain from zero, or less than zero even, and in such a short time, and, well, I’ve also built Boxmore and lost it and gotten it back, so… We’ve done it before, and we can do it again, even if you do lose everything.” 

_We, eh?_

Venomous smiled, really smiled happily at that thought. When Boxman of all people put it like that, he could believe it. Cob, when Boxman was with him, he could believe anything was possible. _I really, really have it bad_ , he thought and reached out for Boxman’s hand, murmuring a soft “Thanks.”

“Whose trashcan do you want us to sleep in, then?” He added after a small pause in which both of them eyed the food.

“Hm… _Not_ Billiam’s. Maybe Cosma’s? She looks like she throws away a lot of good stuff.”

“No groping _her_ chest, I hope,” Venomous smirked.

“Pfft, no thank you,” Boxman said emphatically. “Yours is so much nicer.”

It was Venomous’s turn to steam gently as he silently thanked Cob for the tray covering his lap.

\---

Carol had just been arriving at the square after dropping K.O. off to school when a couple of wide-eyed uni students appeared out of nowhere and dragged her into the library, where an eerily serene librarian Shamrock informed her that her tape was stolen.

“But… how?” Carol asked the world in general as she sat next to the librarian and gave them a hug. “I mean, who would do such a thing?”

“Billiam Milliam, who else! He knew this exhibition would bring in a lot of attention and donations!” Miki, one of the fuming student helpers, exclaimed.

“He’s not really that… subtle,” Carol shook her head. “Believe me.”

“Well why not! No exhibition, no help for the library, and his problem is solved!” Nohemi, another student, said bitterly.

“Hey now!” Carol waved a motherly finger. “All those heroes outside are here to help. He’s not getting away with _anything_ just because one tape went missing. Now I want all of you back at those work-tables preparing everything else, just as planned. We’ll think of something.”

The students shuffled away and Carol looked back to Shamrock and gave them a pat.

“Are you alright, Shamrock?”

“I’m sorry we lost your tape, Carol. I know it meant a lot to you, even if you had donated it.”

“No, I’m sorry this is turning into such a mess. Oh, now I wish I had never dug up this stupid old thing!” She exclaimed angrily and then collected herself. “I never meant to stir all this ancient hero-worship. I just thought… Well, I thought Laserblast was up for one last good deed, I suppose. He would have wanted to help the library, I just know it.”

“I’m sure he would have,” Shamrock squeezed her hand.

\---

Somewhere not at all as far as Carol thought, Professor Venomous almost sneezed his lungs out, followed by a supremely disgusted and sophisticated “You are gross” from a passing, snot-covered Raymond.

\---

“Carol, let’s call off the whole exhibition thing. It… it was worth a shot for a while, maybe, but it won’t save us. Billiam Milliam does have a document saying he bought the land we stand on, so if he refuses to sell it, no amount of donations would save us anyway. And… and to be honest, I never liked exploiting Laserblast’s identity like that.”

“No,” said Carol. “We can’t give up, yet. We can’t let him win without a fight. If an important exhibit went missing so conveniently for him, the world should know about it. And I know just the person to help us with that!”

Librarian Shamrock wasn’t sure how to feel about their old friend’s manic grin, but felt at least a little more hopeful. “Oh,” they said carefully. “And who’s that?”

“Why, Dynamite Watkins, of course!”

They should have never asked, they thought.

\---

Billiam Milliam would have been frothing at the mouth had it not been below the dignity of a negative twelve villain such as himself, but he was, quite secretly, seeing red. He had a reputation to maintain, and he had no idea why it was suddenly so Cob-dang hard to do so. It had to be Boxman’s _failure cooties_ rubbing off on him. He shuddered at the thought of any part of Boxman rubbing on him. He had no idea what profits Venomous had to be hoping for, to even allow that horrible creature anywhere near himself.

Not that it mattered. Those two sore excuses for villains would have to deliver for once, because the situation was just _intolerable_. 

His phone rang again. It was that awful nosy woman, Dynamite Watkins. She called so often these days that he had all her numbers entered in his phonebook. He disconnected the call and gave an order to the nearest minion to be ready to defend his estate against reporters. As far as he knew the Action News crew, they’d be crashing into his back-yard any minute now.

But really! _Heroes_? Accusing _him_ of something he had _not done_? 

Did they really think he had time to waste stealing some boring tape of some long-dead hero? He had glorbs to mine, for Cob’s socks’ sake! Money to make!

Not that the missing tape didn’t solve a lot of his problems, actually. Part of him did feel chagrined that he hadn’t thought of it, but now that he was innocent of something for once, he resented the accusations. They drew too much of the wrong sort of attention.

And he wasn’t at all sure that he could get away with what he was doing if the heroes, ordinary citizens and journalists continued to make that much noise.

He checked his bank account and picked up the phone. He had a villainous reputation to save and heroes to crush.

\---

After a rather exciting morning in the workshop and factory floors, Boxman bounced into Venomous’s spacious and still mostly cardboard-box-filled office.

“PV, I have great news! You’d never believe what happened just now!” he chirruped, and then stopped when he saw the frown on Venomous’s face. “Is something wrong?”

“Not… really. It’s just Billiam.” Venomous bit his lip, eyes glued to the TV screen in the corner of the office where a special afternoon edition of the news was on. Boxman thought that his suspiciously neutral face told a different story. “He managed to stay mostly out of the news so far, but now that reporter from Action News has started targeting him. She says that not only was his purchase of the library land illegal, but he also stole the tape. You know, the one.”

“Well, that’s pretty convenient for us, if you ask me. Also, I heard he paid one techno for the land. How can _that_ be legal?”

“Fooling vulnerable people into making really, really bad business decisions is a revered and ancient part of villainy, Boxman.”

“Touché.”

“The thing is… now that he’s under attack, he’s threatening to just move in and demolish the library, protesters or not. I’m… not sure if he means it.”

“What, mow down _all_ the protesters?” Boxman frowned. “There were school kids and people in wheelchairs and other civilians and stuff. He can’t be serious?”

“Well...”

“ _Seriously?_ You’re friends with someone who’d mow down civilians having what’s practically a picnic? There’s a limit even to villainy!”

“We’re not friends,” Venomous said defensively. “He’s just very rich, and I mooched _a lot_ off him during the first years of my career as a villain.”

“What, for designing pert-butted silver minions?”

“Yes. He was… disturbingly particular about certain _assets_ , but the pay was rather generous,” he tisked and they exchanged knowing looks. “But the point is, well… You have your plaza, I have Laserblast and he… he has money. It’s his superpower and his weakness. I think he’s actually capable of mowing down anyone standing between him and the kind of fortune a glorb mine means.”

Boxman’s face turned a shade closer to that of his lab coat.

“Good thing he doesn’t actually have the troops to do that. He doesn’t maintain a strike force permanently because of the expenses.” Venomous relaxed back in his chair. “Nothing to worry about, I’m sure.”

“Uhm, PV, actually...” Boxman started and poked his fingers together. Venomous knew that expression. He still saw it in his nightmares after having had his whole house _and_ doomsday ray exploded.

“Oh Cob. What have you done now?” He flung himself back in his boss-chair with a groan.

“Well, I originally came here to tell you that, ehm, he called, and shouted a bit, and then told me he was going to pay for the whole order of minebots in advance right now if, he-heh...”

“They can’t be ready that soon! What with all the time you spent with me chasing that tape?”

“Oh, I assumed Fink had told you… She got together with my kids, a couple of days ago, and decided that, well, no library - no problem. So they finished a lot of the work for me, you see. Fink even dragged in some of your inventions. It was all very impressive.”

“Oh Cob,” Venomous pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m glad they’re getting along, but… Please don’t tell me you just sent that cash-crazed pervert a small army of heavy-duty mining robots.”

“Well at least he paid for them!” Boxman said with a wince. “I got the transfer confirmation and everything, and Darrell is shipping them out as we speak. Production is still ongoing, so we’re shipping in batches, but we’ll have sent everything we have so far by the end of the day. Boxmore is back in the black!”

Venomous bit his lip and looked back towards the TV screen. Predictably, the other biggest news item was the disappearance of the Laserblast tape, as it was now dramatically known, and the consequent expected failure of the donation drive. The news had broken just a couple of hours ago and it was already all over every media. How had this gotten so out of hand?

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, PV,” said Boxman with a tad too much cheerfulness in his voice. “He’s a villain, not an idiot. I’m sure even he can see that he’ll make more enemies than he can handle if he does that. Besides, it’s crawling with heroes.”

“Yes...” said Venomous doubtfully, “You must be right.”

\---

K.O. happily bounced up the steps of the library, school bag still on his back, and hugged Carol’s knees. Someone awww-ed in the background.

“Hello sweetie, how was school today?” She picked him up to give him a smooch.

“Hi mommy! I told everyone about how the protest was going! Some of them even decided to come join us!” K.O. happily pointed to a bunch of kids whose names Carol didn’t remember very well. Dendy was at the front of the group, waving up at them.

Carol, who had seen Billiam’s latest statement given to Dynamite Watkins in his smoking jacket for some reason in the billiard room, gave a very strained smile.

“How… thoughtful of you. Maybe they can come tomorrow instead? I’ll ask Gene to take you all back to the plaza and treat you all to something nice, how about that?”

“But they’re already here! I’ll just show them around the library. We’ll be quiet mom, I promise!”

“Yes, Mrs. K.O.’s Mom, we’ll just look around!” Dendy said as she walked by them with the rest of the kids.

Carol let them go, a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Say mom, aren’t there… less heroes than before today? Like, a lot less?”

“They had to go back to fight their own villains, K.O. It’s alright, they gave as much time as they had to the library,” she tried to cheer him up at the sight of his cute small frown. “There are plenty of heroes left! Don’t worry, I’m sure everything will turn out alright!” 

\---

The news had made an impression on Boxman, too. He was more than happy to get back to his workshop and design the rest of the minebots for Billiam, especially now that his children were suddenly so eager to help. The design they had come up with and eventually even produced wasn’t anywhere as good as his own, _of course_ , but all things considered, they had done a good job. A bit slapdash of a good job, but hey, it was for Billiam anyway. Who cared?

The harvester minebot design was easier, if more delicate, especially considering that Boxman already had various stock designs and drafts he could use. It didn’t require much thought, and that left the back of his mind free to work on other things.

Unexpectedly, it soon got stuck on Rickey Rats and Cobsmas.

If the Laserblast tape was out here, in the perfectly legitimately checked-out box of Mr. Rats, was the original tape still in the library?

 _Eh Cob, surely, Stink would not have just swapped them?_ She was a kid, not dumb. She was quite smart for her age, in fact. Plus, she was quite close with her, er, boss. She would talk to him. _But still. He has been pretty preoccupied with other stuff and she knows it._

Eventually, he chucked the design board and went in search of Fink. He found her in the kitchen, with a bowl of batteries and Mikayla happily purring in her lap. Boxman couldn’t help spotting an open notebook with several math homework worksheets tucked in. He tried not to laugh, as befitted an adult.

“Sooo, Rickey Rats, eh?” he drawled, so very maturely, as he lounged in the chair opposite the pair.

“Huh? What do you want, Boxbutt?” He caught how she flinched a bit.

“Say, what did you do with the actual movie tape?” Yep. Definitely a flinch. “You didn’t, by any chance, say, stick it in Laserblast’s tape box?”

“What do you think I am, a Darrell?” Fink growled. “Of course I didn’t.”

“So where is it then?”

Fink aggressively petted Mikayla and shuffled her homework.

“Come on, did you flush it down the loo or something?”

Fink mumbled something.

“Say what?”

“It wouldn’t fit!” She shouted and then hid behind the now suitably startled Mikayla.

“Ah, you did try then,” Boxman chuckled.

“I panicked, ok! There! I couldn’t carry it out cos it was tagged, and I couldn’t put it in the other tape’s box, so I...” Fink gulped. “I picked up a fern and stuck it at the bottom of the pot.”

“You know you could just peel off the electronic tag, right?”

“I do now!” Fink squeaked after a short stunned silence.

It only occurred to Boxman then that Fink had been sitting on this slip-up for a whole day all by herself, wondering if she hadn’t left a trail that could lead all the heroes to them. And she was only 6-11 years old. _Ouch, Boxy. A+ step-parenting skills, if she’d rather stew by herself than talk to you._

“You think you can, he-heh, _dig up_ that tape again?” he asked and rummaged his coat pockets.

Fink glared at him.

“Don’t give me that look, Ms. Rats, I’ve got you covered.” He said reassuringly while he poked his Poodle search.

“Really?” she eyed him with supreme suspicion.

“One second-to-seventh-hand vintage Rickey Rats tape, coming rrrright up!” he chirped and showed her the screen.

“One techno ninety-nine?” She looked at the screen in disbelief.

“Yup, plus express delivery.” Boxman said and smiled at her, this time without any hint of a jab. “The old tape is too damaged by now. So return the box, unstick the tag from the old tape, stick it to the new one, nobody will know a thing.”

“Oh.” The look of relief was unmistakable, even if Fink did a good job of hiding it.

“Hey… I know we don’t usually see eye to eye, but I’m always ready to try and do what I can,” he said, resisting the honestly inexplicable urge to pet her fluffy mane. Strange, he had never had such suicidal tendencies before.

Fink just hugged Mikayla tighter and fed her a battery while he placed the order.

He thought he heard a “Thanks, Boxbutt,” but it was lost in the upbeat ringtone of “Two of Hearts.”

\---

“He’s doing it. He’s really doing it,” Venomous hissed, unable to believe his eyes as he watched the evening news story unfold.

Boxman, who had come running, looked at the screen. And sure enough, his own robots, in tight ranks, were leaving what looked like a warehouse and heading to the city square, if the shouting reporter was to be believed.

“I can’t believe I let such an _idiot_ de-pants me on his stupid yacht,” Boxman stared. He had to admit that his kids’ creation looked extremely menacing when unleashed on the world.

“We have to do something, Boxman.” Venomous gripped his office desk so hard his knuckles went pink. “This is not good. At all!”

“PV?” Boxman gave him a worried sidelong glance. “Is it my imagination, or are you a bit… too invested in this? I mean, I know it’s technically our fault, but-”

“Carol’s there,” Venomous managed to get out through gritted teeth. “I saw her right in the first lines of the crowd.” Then he clarified, “Silver Spark.”

“Oh.” Boxman caught up. “Wait, she lives here? In Lakewood?”

“Oh Cob why now,” Venomous pulled his hair and decided he just wanted all of this mess out in the open already. “Yes, she does. She’s originally from Lakewood. And she’s also the same Carol from the dojo.” 

“...”

“You know, at the plaza?”

Boxman was suddenly hanging off his lapels. “That horrible little brat K.O. is Silver Spark’s kid??”

“Yes,” Venomous forced himself to say, not bothering to remove Boxman, and mentally preparing for a punch in the face.

“PV,” Boxman slowly crawled back on the desk and held him by the shoulders. “Who is K.O.’s dad?”

“I am.”

“Oh Cob’s popping kernels,” Boxman whispered and plopped on his butt on Venomous’s desk.

“It’s not how you think,” he hurried to try to explain. “He wasn’t born until after that fiasco at the donut shop. I didn’t even know she was pregnant! Heck, I don’t know how she _could have_ gotten pregnant in the first place! We were careful!”

Boxman looked at him with big quivering shimmering eyes. _Oh Cob please don’t let him start crying. How many disappointments can he take from me before he shows me the door?_

“I only looked into it after K.O. and those pesky heroes crashed our private dinner. And I have zero intention of going back and trying to play house _now_!”

“PV...” whined Boxman. Actually whined.

“I’m as good as a donor, Boxman, I swear.”

“PV, all this time, I’ve been...”

_Cob I am going to lose him. Why, why, why..._

“... sending _my_ kids to blow up _your_ kid??”

 _What._

Boxman had actual tears in his eyes.

“Why didn’t you say sooner? I wouldn’t have!”

“Uhm.” Venomous had the metaphorical carpet pulled from beneath him yet again and had no idea what to say. “K.O. gives as good as he gets, from what I’ve seen. I’m… really, _really_ not worried about him.”

“But I am!”

“Huh?”

“Well, erm,” he was suddenly poking his index fingers together and looking shy. “I didn’t want to say because it’s not very villainous of me but… well, the plaza fights are one thing, but those minebots are heavy, armoured beasts. If Billiam sets them on the crowd, they might actually kill the plaza brats! For real!” 

“You… you also don’t want them dead?” Boxman shook his head no. “And, erm, what about him being my, you know?”

“Oh, I’ll just put that in my “to digest” pile for now.” Boxman said off-handedly. “Do you have anything else you’d like to get out in the open, while we’re at it? I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me you’re the President of the Universe’s son at this point.” 

“I’m not,” Venomous ground out. “And that was the last of my… secrets, as far as I know.”

“Cool, cool,” nodded Boxman. “So, plaza brats, killer army, what do _you_ want to do about it?”

“I don’t want them dead. If possible.” Venomous stated firmly after a moment’s thought. “And that’s the level of care I have for them. Make of that what you will.”

“PV-”

“I don’t want them in my life,” he exploded, “I don’t care what they do, I don’t care if you send your children every other day to kick their posteriors, but. But... I can’t sit here while our own robots kill them for the sake of Billiam’s already well-padded bank account! Villain, not a monster, isn’t that what you’re always saying?”

“I was just going to remind you that you have a sports car. It’s faster than my desk. We can still make it.”

\---

By the time Venomous’s sports car screeched to a halt at one side of the city square, things had already come to a head. He got out of the car and surveyed the situation which, he realized, was beyond the point of no return now. Boxman followed suit.

The small army of heavy-duty drilling minebots advanced in a tight formation against the mismatched and depleted group of heroes defending the library. Despite the humanoid design, the robots were big, bulky monstrosities complete with interchangeable drills, sledgehammers, vacuum suckers and other equipment that could easily turn into a fearsome weapon.

The tension in the air was palpable. The heroes were not going to back off. It stood against all the principles of being a hero. Somewhere in their ranks, Carol, Mr. Gar and K.O. exchanged loving looks, trying to comfort each other. Somewhere way behind, librarian Shamrock hugged Dendy and the other kids that had come to the library that afternoon. Even Dynamite Watkins had no comment to offer in the oppressive silence.

The robot army stopped when the tips of their drills were only a small way away from the front lines of the heroes. It was the heavy lull before the storm, while everyone waited for the robots to make the first move.

And they did.

All of the minebots, as one, executed a perfect 180-degree turn, bent at the waist, stuck out their disturbingly pert butts, and their bottoms fell out on hidden hinges, revealing cushioned empty spaces.

Everyone stood still, with some of the more sensitive heroes covering their eyes. Nothing moved, not even the pterodactyls.

“What in Cob’s cornflower basket is this, Boxman?” Venomous asked very quietly, pointing to the impossible tableau before them.

Boxman was facepalming, with a lot of feeling.

“I _tried_ to tell Billiam that these are only half of the workforce, but would he _listen_?” He shook his head. “These are only the heavy-duty diggers. Glorbs can be fragile and unstable in the wild, and you need something more delicate to harvest them.”

“That explains practically… nothing.”

“Most of those high-level heroes are using something glorb-powered. The digger minebots detected glorbs, stopped, and are waiting for the harvesting robots to, you know, harvest the things and put them in the well-padded storages, so they can carry them out of the mine safely.”

“...”

“The harvesters are still in blueprint stage, if you need to know.” He added, sourly. 

“And you put the storage units… in their _butts_?”

“Well what was I supposed to do, let all that empty space go to waste?? It’s a major design no-no! Plus, the shape was perfect!” Boxman waved his arms around in exasperation.

“Boxman,” Venomous said with his most stoic expression, “I want to have you right here on the hood of this car in the middle of this square for everyone to see.”

“Eep,” a bright red Boxman elaborated his feelings on the suggested course of action.

“Or if you want, we can just go for a drive,” Venomous decided to have mercy and allowed his expression to break into a grin. “To celebrate, and all. I don’t think we can do anything more here,” he explained and leaned on the car roof, to better see Boxman on the other side.

“But we didn’t do anything,” muttered a still pinkish Boxman.

“Well, we fully intended to,” Venomous shrugged and grinned wider. “Almost the same thing, right?”

“How were you ever a hero?” Boxman asked rhetorically. “Oh, alright. I suppose the further we are when Billiam finds out about this, the better,” he finished with a sigh and got in the car. 

Venomous hissed a quiet “ _Yesss_ ” as he hopped in, and off they went.

\---

Despite the cheers and jeers from the heroes while Billiam Milliam’s minions started manually removing each huge bending minebot from the city square one by one via crane, the air in the protesters’ ranks wasn’t very festive.

“Mr. Gar, why aren’t people, you know, celebrating?” K.O. asked tentatively as he sidled up to the frowning hero.

“Because that was just one battle, son, not the whole war.”

“This… wasn’t a very battle-like battle,” K.O. noted reasonably. “How are we going to win the war if all of them are like this one?”

“Only the higher authorities can really solve this one,” Mr. Gar explained, frowning even deeper. “And as usual, they are too preoccupied with their own agendas to do something for the people. Billiam Milliam just sent a heavy robot army against peacefully protesting citizens and neither the Prime Planetary Minister nor the Neutral Zone Deputy said anything. Or POINT, for that matter,” he added, under his moustache.

“Oh,” said K.O., drooping a bit.

“Cheer up, kid,” Mr. Gar tried to smile, but it just wasn’t his forte. “Tomorrow’s a new day. You never know who might decide to help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic comment writing pro!tip 8:  
> A nice and simple "good job" or "well done" is actually a good comment! Most of us are baby writers, so some nice baby-level encouragement is just the thing. You can also bribe us with food, hugs and shiny toys. :)


	10. Saturday: On the lack of library ID

It was closing time at the library, but librarian Shamrock was still at their workplace, all alone. They just didn’t have it in them to pack their things and leave, so they had done a last, very thorough round of the whole building - all three floors, the stacks, the discussion area, obliterating on the way all traces of the ill-fated exhibition. The events of the day still felt surreal, and so did all the old familiar corners of the building, which they felt as if they were really seeing for the first time.

Finally, the librarian stepped out into the thickening darkness and the light drizzle illuminated by the library windows and carefully untacked all the exhibition posters that still hung limply outside, stacked them over one arm and placed them to dry before they could be given for recycling. Shamrock also picked up the “Book lovers, let’s GET LOST in a book tonight” sign and carried it inside.

They dearly hoped that all lovers, book or otherwise, had a good place to spend tonight.

\---

That same morning, one particular lover of round evil geniuses with avian tendencies had woken up with his nose stuck in an article about harnessing wormholes whose smell had regretfully faded.

“Certify me, I’m a pervert,” he mumbled as he tried to collect all the loose pages from his pillows and see his alarm clock over the mess. In his defence, he had been honestly trying to read it to get his mind off other things, but the extremely hard-going style that constantly made references to things outside of his area of expertise had put him to sleep. He had not at all been dreamily sniffing the pages as he did so, absolutely not.

Just as he was ready to go to the kitchen in search of food, there was a knock on his door and Boxman’s butt greeted him again. His hands were, once again, occupied with a big breakfast tray.

_I could get used to this._

“The children insisted,” Boxman explained at the implied question. “This time I brought my own, too.” _Oh Cob those blushes so early in the morning are going to end me. He’s too cute._

“Great idea.” He managed a smile, or at least he hoped it was one. He did look at his most villainous early in the morning, as do all night owl people.

They chatted a bit about minor stuff, such as the (lack of) progress on the greenhouse being built behind Boxmore, mega-Darrell’s brain-dome-less state, Fink’s math homework, and the religious avoidance of Billiam’s incessant phone-calls and his minions knocking on the factory doors. When Venomous felt awake enough, he finally got around to asking what he had on his mind.

“So… are you doing anything tonight, Boxman?”

“Hm? Why, want to go for another drive?” He grinned, mouth full of bun.

“Not after the way you drove yesterday. Giving you the wheel was the worst idea I’ve had this week,” Venomous deadpanned and took a calming bite directly off a hard-boiled egg.

“Really? And there I thought you liked riding...” Boxman wiggled his eyebrows innocently and Venomous choked and swallowed the egg whole. Thank Cob for snake reflexes. “...shotgun. You ok there, PV?” He equally innocently handed him his cup of tea.

“I-” he tried and coughed to get his voice right. _Two can play at this game, Boxy, and I have way more experience._ “I was going to suggest a nice and quiet evening at home, actually,” he purred. “Find something for the kids to do and shut ourselves here, in my room, hm?” He gave Boxman his best lingering look under his eyelashes. 

“R-really?”

“We can watch something, maybe,” he added innocently and then let his voice drop even lower, leaning towards Boxman over the breakfast tray. “Something with a lot of beautiful, fit men and women having a good time.”

“Oh, eh, erm,” a pink Boxman said intelligently. Venomous couldn’t help noticing the tiny little bit of drool.

“I know just the thing, actually,” he said nonchalantly and lounged back luxuriously on his bed, letting his pajama top ride a bit up his belly. Boxman followed the motion until he nearly fell over the breakfast tray.

In the next moment, the words “Laserblast organizes Rippy’s birthday” were shoved in Boxman’s face. The look on it was worth the pillow in the face Venomous got a heartbeat later.

“Come on, Boxy, I don’t think it’s that long. Watch it with me,” he said, chuckling only a little, pulled the rest of the pillows safely out of Boxman’s reach. “I’m not hiding anything anymore, I just want it all out in the open and preferably behind us.”

“Well, actually, that might take a bit more doing than you think,” started Boxman, polishing off the last of his breakfast. “Cos, you see, what happened is-”

His phone chose that exact moment to ring loudly, to the tune of “I Wanna Be A Cowboy,” and Boxman picked up. Venomous could only guess it was Darrell.

“Sorry PV, got an important delivery I have to take,” Boxman said before he hopped off the bed and ran to the door. “And then I’ll be off with Fink for a bit. See you around!”

“What, with _Fink_?? Wait, and what about tonight! Are you up for it?” He shouted at the retreating back.

“Probably! We’ll see! Who knows!” Boxman answered from the corridor and then he was gone.

_You absolutely deserved that for stalling so long, old villain. Not very nice on the receiving end, eh?_

He tossed his house robe on, picked up the tray and a stack of DVDs from his nightstand and decided that at least he could go finish his breakfast with the robots, if Boxman was out with Fink of all people. He wasn’t about to be out-step-parented, cob it!

\---

K.O., Carol, and Dendy, all on top of the desk that occupied the back of the librarians’ station, were watching through the blinds just like a certain villain liked to do. Shamrock was unsuccessfully trying to see over their shoulders without getting on too, because some things are just _not done_ when you’re a librarian.

“Wow, Ms. Watkins is really going at it,” commented K.O.

“Well she would be,” said Carol approvingly. “None of the authorities have taken _any_ notice of the situation so far. Even POINT is playing possum.”

“And why did you decide to delay the exhibition, librarian?” Dendy asked, turning around to sit on the desk and face Shamrock.

“Well, I talked to some of the heroes yesterday and we decided it would draw more attention that way,” they said, unenthusiastically. “It’s not a very honorable tactic, but… it’s what we agreed on.”

“Hmm… if only we had some proof of what really happened,” hummed K.O., also getting down to sit next to Dendy.

“Say! Is that a security camera?” Suddenly exclaimed Dendy. “Why haven’t we seen its footage?”

“The only working camera is the one pointing to the stacks’ entrance. There are some valuable things in there,” Shamrock explained. “I doubt it caught anything, but I can get you the footage. There’s a lot of it, though...”

“Oh! We can help with that!” K.O. exclaimed. “It’s not a school day today, so I bet we three can watch all of it!”

“Yes!” said Dendy, excitedly. “I’ll help, too!”

Carol only nodded agreement. Librarian Shamrock smiled and hurried to get the recordings. 

\---

Venomous, in the meantime, polished off the rest of his breakfast, went through his mental notes one last time, and then almost shyly slid two DVDs in the direction of Darrell and Raymond.

“These are for you, guys,” he answered their questioning looks. They grabbed the goodies.

“Evict Us!”

“Toy Tale!”

The other robots gave him the stink-eye.

He fanned out the rest of the DVDs like the pro poker player that he was.

“I hope the rest of you like the movies I picked for you, too.”

Ernesto got “The Velociraptor of Wall Street,” Jethro got the Planetary Ballet performing “Pterodactyl Lake,” Shannon grabbed a whole season of “Mean Little Women” and Mikayla, who had been a _pain_ to choose for, cautiously sniffed “Humans: The Musical!” 

“I just wanted to say...” he started and suddenly was the center of way too much rapt attention. “Erm. I’m really grateful for your help with my… library situation. You did an amazing job.”

_Wow, I didn’t know robots could blush. They’re practically melting. Wait! Can they actually melt??_

“And I also need to admit that...” he gulped, “I may have had ulterior motives when I took you out last week.” He looked around sheepishly and did not feel encouraged by the looks he got. “I… I guess it was obvious, in hindsight, yes?” He sweated a bit.

“That’s it! I told you!” Darrell slammed the table and hopped up, looking mighty angry. Venomous sweated even more. “He’s going to make us return the presents because his _labrat_ stole that tape and not us!”

“What?? No!”

“Well that’s not fair!” Shannon was up on her feet too. “How is it _our_ fault that father never gave us any stupid library cards!”

“I said no! And her name is Fink!”

“Well, _I_ , for one,” Raymond said haughtily, “already threw away the receipt _and_ cut the label off my present. Good luck returning _that_.”

Venomous sighed and decided to solve the problem the best way he knew how.

He smacked a wad of cash on the table.

“Now that I have your rapt attention,” he said in the sudden respectful silence, “I was going to suggest we all sit together like good, erm, business-partner and business-partner’s-children, and decide together how to spend this on things you would like to do.”

The robots went wide-eyed.

“Shopping is a lot of fun, but I thought I should let you choose what you’d like to do, individually. For example, I thought Raymond might like us to go see the Neo Riot Giants play against the Danger Zone Succulents next week.” Raymond’s eyes became very wide and very sparkly. “If anyone else wants to come, they’re welcome, of course,” Venomous added.

He chuckled a bit at the explosion of excited chatter that followed that. He was quite sure he’d soon dread leaving the kids to choose, but he was ready to take one for the team in the name of his, er, business partnership with Boxman.

“Professor,” Ernesto had materialized inconspicuously next to him. “You’re very generous.”

“Thanks, Ernesto, but it’s really the least I can do.”

“And is there perhaps… anything you’d like _us_ to do?”

“You think this is a bribe?” Venomous raised his eyebrows, sipping the last of his tea.

“Well, that’s such a strong word,” Ernesto said casually.

They gave each other measuring looks.

“Couldn’t help noticing how you’ve been sending me breakfast in bed these last couple of days,” he said, also very casually. “Via your father.”

“Indeed.”

“Keep up the good work.”

“Yes, sir.”

The morning suddenly seemed to be going a lot better for him, so Venomous made the grievous mistake of turning on the TV next. The image of an angry, ranting Dynamite Watkins slapped him in the face like one of Boxman’s junkfish.

“-the face of such complete lack of action from all concerned authorities, the heroes’ committee of protesters have decided that they will delay the opening of the exhibition and pursue the theft of its key exhibit with all their resources until it is proven beyond doubt that it was a deliberate act of Billiam Millaim or another associated villain aiming to destroy...”

“Oh, cob. When will this nightmare be over? I just want it done and gone and never spoken of again,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. So that’s what Boxman had alluded to when he had said it would take a bit more doing. He’d be cobbed if this whole business didn’t bring on a migraine at this rate.

“I AM JETHRO,” said Jethro as he bumped into his chair leg.

“Yes, it doesn’t sound good at all, Jethro,” replied Venomous without thinking. In the next moment he perked up and looked down in shock. _Wow, I actually understood that_. _What’s happening to me?_

“Aren’t you a friend of Mr. Milliam’s?” Ernesto asked. “Couldn’t you ask him for assistance?”

“No, and absolutely not. He’s the last person on this planet I want involved in this.” _Especially after daring to call my Boxy a “lump.” He is_ so _going to pay for that._

“So demolishing the library isn’t an option anymore, eh?” Shannon sounded almost disappointed.

“It wouldn’t seem so,” said Venomous, trying his best to think. “At this point, the only way to remove those heroes and make everyone stop thinking about that tape is if the library was saved, not demolished.”

“So how can we do that?” Asked Darrell, scratching his brain-dome.

“Huh? We?”

The robots stared at him as if he was an idiot.

“Mikayla. Mikayla Mikayla!”

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that?”

“I AM JETHRO,” Jethro translated helpfully. Venomous pinched the bridge of his nose again.

“Well, I actually agree, of course we’re not about to leave you to deal with it alone!” Raymond said, suddenly wearing a Neo Riot Giants rugby shirt.

“Yeah, of course we’re going to help,” supported him Shannon. “But we need a plan first!”

Ernesto nodded approvingly at that.

Venomous took a look around the table and was surprised at how sincerely eager they all seemed to help him. It did something to that soft, mushy part inside of him that he’d always thought was only big enough to fit Fink.

“Thanks, to all of you,” he said, not knowing how else to express himself, and gave them his best smile in return. “When your father comes back, we’ll put our heads together and I’m sure we’ll come up with something. I’ll be counting on you all then.”

\---

Fink pulled on Boxman’s colorful bomber jacket and finally managed to tug him out of the bushes.

“I thought you were good at piloting this thing!” she berated him, “I’ve been on it twice and now it turns out you could have dropped me at any point??” 

“I’m an expert pilot, I wouldn’t let that happen!” Boxman pulled a twig from below his baseball cap. “And why did you need me to go in with you anyway? You’ll be more inconspicuous by yourself.”

“You provide the best distractions, if I need one,” Fink mumbled.

“Sorry, what was that? Can you say it again?” Boxman grinned wide.

“I said you’re loud, obnoxious and smell like motor oil!” Fink shouted.

“Why thank you, Stink,” said Boxman, wiping away a proud tear. “You remember what to do, right?”

“Of course,” Fink huffed. “I’m not Darrell.”

“And you remember my, erm, _special assignment_ for you?” Boxman smiled sheepishly.

“I said I owe you one for the tape, so I’ll do it,” Fink said and rolled her eyes _really_ hard, and off they went to the library.

Boxman decided it would be best to go on the offensive as soon as he got in, so he cheerfully rang the counter bell and grinned at librarian Shamrock when they appeared.

“Thank you for your continued patronage, sir,” they said icily. “Maybe this time you’re here to get an _actual_ library card?” The icicles intensified. “Because I checked and you don’t have one.” Even the otherwise imperturbable Boxman felt the need to lean away at that. “So I have no idea how you graced us with your presence these previous times.” They glared murder and oblivion.

“I crawled under the automatic doors,” Boxman supplied smoothly, with only a little cold sweating. Was it true what they said about librarians possessing occult, eldritch powers? And if so, what moral code stopped them from unleashing them on poor, unsuspecting evil geniuses?

“Is that so,” intoned the librarian and slapped a form and a pen in front of Boxman. “Please, fill in this form, _esteemed patron_.”

“Iiiiii seem to have forgotten my ID,” Boxman said. He sure as gravity wasn’t going to write his name on any official paper.

“I’ll take you on your word that you’ll bring it in next time you patronize our establishment.”

“How can you do that? What if I never come again?”

“Would I be so lucky,” mumbled Shamrock and then answered louder, “Then the point of having a card is moot anyway. Fill in the form, _sir_.”

Boxman cast a surreptitious glance at the back of the kids’ corner where the top of a gently swaying fern was visible. So he pulled the form to himself, took the pen and thought about it for a moment.

“So do I need a medical certificate to be eligible for one of these things, or will just my measurements suffice?”

Librarian Shamrock facepalmed. He was going to be one of _those_.

\---

“Hmm...” Dendy crawled on top of the desk to better see the images on the small library laptop they were using to review the security footage. “There is something weird about this...”

“Did you find something, Dendy?” K.O. asked from his own laptop that he was staring at with eye-drooping boredom. “Should we call the librarian?”

They all looked to where said librarian was talking to someone short in a baseball hat at the counter.

“Maybe it’s best not to disturb them,” Dendy said doubtfully. “It might have been my imagination. Let’s just keep looking.”

\---

A persistent beeping drew Shamrock’s attention away from Boxman and to the self check-out machine. Fink was there, stuffing book after book in her backpack.

“Hold on a moment, sir,” they said and went to check up on her. Boxman looked on, worrying his lip.

“Hey, Fink,” they said. “Do you need help with that?”

“No, thanks,” said Fink, checking out more books with focused determination.

Shamrock’s friendly smile suddenly froze.

“Fink. You know, not all books that look colorful are, erm, good books...”

“Oh?” Fink threw them a very pointed look. “Which ones would you like to censor, then?”

“Eep,” explained the librarian who was reasonably up to date on the whole discourse regarding colorful books that may not be age appropriate for children.

“Fifty books is the upper limit, right?” Fink asked. Shamrock stared in horror as the word “codpiece” disappeared into the abyss of her backpack.

“Erm, Fink, dear, I really think you shouldn’t...”

“Look, librarian,” Fink suddenly turned on them and realized she had to think of a plausible lie _quickly_. Boxman waved at her from the counter. “I have a very difficult situation at home.” _If those two geniuses don’t just decide already what they want to do with each other, they’ll drive me nuts. More nuts than Darrell!_

“Well you mentioned that your dad doesn’t like libraries, but...”

“He’s hopeless.” _Not as hopeless as Boxbutt, who makes poor little minions do this for him._ “And this is my only chance to get him to… read. Yes, read. If this doesn’t get him to, nothing will.” 

“Oh… so you _won’t_ read these yourself?”

“I’m appalled, librarian, appalled,” she replied haughtily, in an excellent Venomous imitation. “I’m only 6-11 years old!”

“Ehm… In that case I suppose... Oh, let me help you with that!” They exclaimed when Fink finished checking out the books and started lugging the backpack towards the exit.

“No need,” Fink said and hauled the bag on to Boxman, where she dropped it on his foot. “A present for you. Now let’s go!”

Boxman, quite happy to be out of there, took the backpack and with a nod to the librarian, hopped after Fink.

Shamrock stared after the short, very energetic, minty-green-haired pair that seemed to know each other so well and at the moment even wore matching baseball caps while he carried her backpack.

“Oh my Cob!” They suddenly gasped, with a lot of feeling. Then their eyes grew big and started to shimmer. “Oh, that poor child! No wonder she feels like she’s carrying the weight of the world, with a father like _this one_!”

Boxman blushed. As for Fink… the less said about the look on Fink’s face as they exited the building, the better.

\---

“Sooo let me get this straight,” Boxman said, finishing a box of fancy take-out. “Now you want to actually save the library?”

“What your kids were saying this morning set me thinking,” Venomous explained. “If you can’t beat them, join them, that sort of thing? And maybe if we look at things one more time, calmly, now that the tape is here, we’ll think of something that can save the place and get everyone to lose interest?”

“Alright then. Let’s start from the beginning!” Boxman said, in a flight of inspiration. “First, why is Billiam even there?”

“He wants to mine the glorbs that are below the library. He even has some sort of document that says he owns the land. Not the library itself, though.”

“Who told him that? I’ve never heard of glorb deposits in that area.”

“Cosma, from what I gathered the last time he was here to berate me.” _And to call you a lump._ “The pompous cobsucker.”

“Huh? All that hobnobbing must be paying off, if you people share such information for free,” Boxman tossed off-handedly, polishing the last drops of sauce off a fancy container.

“Yes, I thought that was interesting, too. What other cards does he have?”

“He has our minebots, but they’re probably still useless. I checked and the kids apparently forgot to install a failsafe. The bots will keep waiting for glorbs to fill their, errr, storages. I can design a patch, but someone will have to go and install it on each robot manually.”

“That was pretty cool,” snickered Venomous. “Your kids did a wonderful job.”

“And put Boxmore even deeper into Billiam’s black books.”

“As if we were ever anywhere else, let’s be honest.” Venomous waved that off. “They sort of indirectly saved Carol and the plaza brats.”

“Yeah,” said Boxman and poked a talon at his lips. “But ultimately, the stupid things didn’t detect any actual glorbs.” 

“They… really did not,” Venomous said slowly, realizing something had just clicked in his head at that. “They detected the heroes’ glorbs.”

“You’ll have to work on that glorb-detector Fink brought in. If I had to guess, I’d say its range was too short.” Boxman nodded.

“Or was it,” said Venomous, grinning at the still half-formed thought he had. Boxman was looking at him with a strange, slightly… constipated expression on his face. “What?”

“Y-you’re very… villainous when you do that… face,” he explained with a cute blush. _So very cute._

“Thank you,” Venomous said, trying to stop his thoughts from slowly derailing into the gutter where Boxman’s blushes tended to send them.

“Wait, wait, are you saying we… gently provide _moral support and guidance_ to your _chum_ Billiam?” Boxman suddenly grinned, too, apparently catching on. The look on his face did nothing to keep Venomous’s mind out of the gutter.

“Something along those lines, yes,” Venomous was grinning broadly, too. “But we’ll need something solid to back us up.”

“Yours truly, and by extension Boxmore, has been researching glorbs for longer than Billiam has known about them, so _puh-lease_.”

“More solid even than that. He’s a suspicious cobsucker.”

Boxman thought about it for a moment and then the demonic look returned.

“Such as, oooh, I don’t know… the cadastre from City Hall?” He leaned over the table.

“What? There’s no way you can get that!” Venomous, wide-eyed, leaned over the table, too. “Can you?”

“What was that good old Laserblast was saying? _Close enough to fool the casual observer_? And if I may say so, Billiam is _very_ casual.”

“Yes! Let’s do it!” Venomous caught his hands, completely into it.

“Just someone try and stop us!” Boxman squeezed them back, a manic grin on his face.

The two of them cackled evilly.

\---

After a quick side trip to the still smoldering site of the former Venomous residence to salvage some clothes, Venny Doe slithered into the library and looked around furtively, quickly zeroing in on the short red hair bobbing over the bookshelves in the kids’ section. He easily jumped the automatic gates and scuttered that way, under close and vigilant parental supervision.

“Librarian Shamrock,” he hissed quietly and secretively, “can I have a word in private?”

“Oh! Venny?” They eyed him suspiciously. “Are you back for that library card I promised you..?”

“I’m here to convey a secret message from, erm, a secret benefactor,” he explained and added for good measure, “in secret.”

“Leeeet’s get you out of here first, shall we?” the librarian said and led him out of the kids’ section, smiling apologetically to the parents sitting around.

He was sat in the librarians’ station again and given another cup of tea and a marmalade bun.

“Secret benefactor, heh? Might as well hear it. We’re running out of options here.”

“Look. I’ll get right to the point. I know you’re celebrating what happened with Billiam’s robots, but you know he’ll be back, don’t you?” 

“We’re not celebrating. Not getting run over by mining robots during a peaceful protest is no reason for celebration. And you know that we just lost our last chance to get enough donations to try and save the library,” Shamrock explained, frowning and looking away for a moment.

“I… I come from someone who can stop Billiam Milliam for good” _probably_ “but only if you agree to help.”

“This sounds awfully shady, Venny. If your benefactor can help, they shouldn’t have to resort to such tactics and secrecy.”

“Trust me, they’re necessary,” he said, starting to get annoyed. It had never occurred to him that the librarian might need more persuasion than the prospect of saving their workplace.

“The director isn’t here and I can’t-”

“It’s not the director, it’s _you_ I need,” Venomous turned on the old hero charm again, with only a small flinch, and caught Shamrock’s hand, looking at them soulfully. “And so do _the kids._ ”

Yes, alright, invoking “the kids” was pushing the boundaries of villainy, but he really needed this mess gone.

“W-what do you want, exactly?” Shamrock said, withdrawing their hand not quite eagerly.

“If you promise to drop the investigation of the missing tape, cancel the exhibition, return all items donated for it, and give up everything else pertaining to POINT that you have in the stacks, my… erm, benefactor will make Billiam return the deed to the library land to you. You won’t have any need for any of those things anyway.”

Librarian Shamrock crossed their arms and sat back in their chair, worrying their lip. They cast a glance somewhere in the distance behind Venomous. He was blissfully unaware that Carol, with K.O. in her lap, was sitting right in the discussion area behind him, going through security footage together with Dendy showing them something on the screen. When Shamrock focused on him again, it was with supreme disbelief.

“Your _benefactor_ will do that, eh, _Venny Doe_?”

Venomous had no idea what the ominous inflections were for, but he nodded anyway.

“You’ve got a deal!” Shamrock grinned widely and extended a hand to shake, suddenly very on board. Venomous took it cautiously. He was quite sure he was missing something.

“Alright then...” he unobtrusively shook some blood circulation back into his hand. “This is what we need from you...”

\---

Boxman worked on the minebot patches the whole evening, with Fink silently materializing in her old spot in the pile of blankets at some point. Their “team” was the only one whose job was essentially done - the others were either busy at work, or in the case of Ernesto and the young artist Shannon - charging their batteries before the upcoming all-nighter they had agreed to pull.

It gave Boxman the time he needed to think, and his thoughts couldn’t help going back to the tape he and Venomous should have been watching in his room that night.

“Hey Fink,” he said eventually. “Do you think you can do an old man a favor, all expenses paid?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic comment writing pro!tip 9:  
> You can comment on old fics! That’s perfectly alright! Some people discover some fics later than others, and it’s never too late to join a fandom. It’s not creepy. You’re not a stalker. You’re not obsessed! Well, not as much as the person who wrote the fic anyway… Which isn’t saying much, really, but comment anyway!


	11. Sunday: How to support your local library

This time last week, Venomous had been in his office, just opening the Villain Weekly that he had snatched from Boxman’s pile of mail, and then having a meltdown, he realized as he sipped the last of his tea with Fink in his lap as he inspected the handiwork of the different Boxmore teams.

Darrell and Jethro had managed to produce patches for all of Billiam’s stuck minebots; Mikayla and Raymond had sieved through all the Boxmore archives and dug up (and touched up) the most believable pieces; Ernesto and Shannon’s work was particularly impressive, considering they had had only one night to produce it. He was genuinely impressed, and made sure to say so.

But the best part was that this Sunday, Boxman was right next to him, helping him and making sure nobody had missed anything. Self-reliance was great and all, but just having Boxman by his side made everything… easier - and him more hopeful and excited than he had felt in a very long time. He packed everything in his big armored briefcase and looked around the table.

“Go solve this mess, PV!” Boxman shouted, and the kids picked it up, too.

Venomous smiled at the cheerleader-style hopping accompanying it. _But Cob, how much I want to kiss him._

\---

Librarian Shamrock was already getting tired of “well-wishers” who were clearly trying to be casual while asking about the glaring absence of all exhibition posters and signs - and it wasn’t even lunch-time yet! K.O. and Carol with Enid and Rad were the best sight they had seen all morning.

“Before you ask anything,” they said right off the bat, “yes, I’ve decided there won’t be an exhibition after all. I’m sorry I had to decide that after all the work all of you put in, but… that’s it.”

“Does that mean you’re giving up? That’s not like you,” Carol said carefully.

“You can’t do that!” Rad exclaimed. “What’s gonna happen to all the people who come here? The kids’ groups? You’ve always been doing such a great job here!” 

“Oh!” Enid scowled suddenly. “Is someone blackmailing you? The same person that has been messing with the security cameras that Dendy discovered?” The heroes gasped at that.

“No, no, it’s not like that.” Shamrock waved their hands no. “And hush please, this is still a library!”

They all formed a huddle, with K.O. standing on the counter in order to be somewhat at eye level with the group.

“Look, guys...” Shamrock tried to explain. “Someone came in yesterday evening and offered to help. And I’ve decided that I trust him to do it. I know it’s a slim chance, but it’s as good of one as we’ve had ever since Billiam Milliam started all this.”

“Him?” K.O. frowned. “But the only man other than the heroes yesterday was that poor homeless guy. You can’t mean _him_?” 

“K.O., being homeless doesn’t mean you’re any less of a person or that you can’t do nice and helpful things for other people,” Carol chided gently.

“I know that!” K.O. rolled his eyes just a tiny little bit. “But all those heroes outside couldn’t do anything, so what can _he_ do to be better than _them_?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about that, too,” Shamrock said with an abstract look in their eyes. Then they snapped out of it. “But we’ll know soon enough if it worked, anyway. Just have a bit more patience, everyone, alright?” They tried their best to smile and look as confident as they sounded.

\---

Shortly after, Venomous strolled in Billiam’s gilded, baroque office, briefcase in hand, and smoothly greeted its fuming occupant.

“Venomous, you sore excuse for a villain, I expected better of you! I am in this absolute _mess_ because of you, and you wouldn’t even deign to pick up my calls! And your horrible minions threw out _my_ minions when I sent them over!” Billiam returned the greeting.

“Now, now, Billiam. You know that’s not true. And I’m here to tell you that Boxmore will deliver the whole mining robot order according to schedule and also to-”

“I won’t _need_ the whole order! Are you listening to me?!”

“If you’d let me continue,” Venomous waited pointedly until Billiam ceased his ranting before he started again. “I’d tell you that the relationship between that order and your… situation is exactly what I’m here to discuss.” 

Venomous smiled mysteriously and made himself comfortable in a plush armchair. He looked up at Billiam as if he had all day and was not, in fact, spitting venom inside.

“You want to offer reparations, no doubt!” Billiam took a haughty guess.

“Hm, not exactly,” Venomous tossed out off-handedly and steepled his fingers, as befitting an evil conspirator. “I assume you know that Boxmore has an interest in industrial-grade glorbs, am I right? I am not a specialist myself,” he lied confidently, “but I’m given to understand that they’re smaller, weaker, and can be more unstable, but are still just as profitable as the ones found in glorb sanctuaries.”

“Of course. They’re equally expensive. A mine can make just as much profit as a sanctuary, if properly marketed. Which I am an expert in.” 

_Uh-huh, and that’s why this library mess has been such a media circus, because you’re that good at PR._

“Ah! So you also understand. And that is why, of course, Boxmore has been scanning the area and doing geological glorb research for a long time. Constantly, in fact, since outsourcing suppliers can be unreliable.” 

_It must be true because it said so right on the green sticky note for him that Raymond helpfully put on the documents, under Mikayla’s dictation, presumably._

“My business partner and I,” he went on, “were quite surprised when you decided to mine in Lakewood proper.” _Oh boy were we ever._ “Because, according to our most recent surveys, the very ones I saw myself when I acquired Boxmore, there are no glorbs at all in the urban area.”

“What do you mean no glorbs?” Billiam slammed his hands on his desk. “Why did Boxman’s own minebots do… _that thing_ if there were no glorbs?”

“Funny story, that. They actually only detected the glorbs that the heroes there were using. We checked.”

“That’s rubbish! Cosma said her satellites detected a deposit!”

“Ah. How interesting. Cosma said that, did she?” He asked, smirking casually.

“Venomous! What do you mean, no glorbs?”

“Yes, I also thought there may be a mistake, so I looked at the survey archives we had at the factory. In fact, I have them here,” he said and clicked open the locked briefcase he had been carrying.

Billiam took the offered stacks of survey data and stared in disbelief at the images and charts that Mikayla and Raymond had been doctoring since the previous day. _I’ll have to get them something way better than rugby tickets and kitty clothes for that._

“Naturally, I knew you were just too smart of a villain to make such a mistake, though. So I decided to go so far as to check with the source. You are, and have always been, an immensely important patron of Boxmore, so your investment in the glorb mine situation couldn’t help worrying me,” he said with all due business-partnerly concern. “It did cost me _a lot_ to check, by the way.”

He shook his head dramatically. It wasn’t a lie, really. His interactions with Shamrock had been _painful_. Billiam said nothing, still flipping through pages and pages of data.

“So I’ll be expecting both complete discretion as well as a substantial remuneration for what I’m about to show you, you understand,” Venomous clarified.

“Yes, yes, it’s not my first villain’s rodeo, get to the point,” said a now slightly wild-eyed Billiam. Venomous knew he had him hook, line and sinker.

“Let’s just say, the Lakewood cadastre that’s guarded at City Hall keeps geological data as well.” 

Billiam’s eyes went round.

Venomous gave his best villainous leer and slyly took out the map he’d gotten from the library stacks, bless librarian Shamrock and their trusting soul. Not to mention that Team Ernesto and Shannon had done a marvellous job putting imaginary deposits of all sorts on it, using the great set of reference books the librarian had found, bookmarked, copied, highlighted, and numbered for them. The rumors about librarians’ great mystical powers had to be true.

“How in the world did you get your hands on this?” Billiam had to sit down in shock. “I- I kept trying, but POINT is keeping such tight surveillance on City Hall that… _Wait_.”

“Hm?” Said Venomous casually, internally screaming at the high skies and Cob’s hair.

“There _are_ glorbs here!” _Phew._ “Just not where Cosma said!”

“Yeeessssss,” hissed Venomous and outright _lounged_ in the armchair, looking at his nails. “That’s what I noticed, myself. It’s just _so very interesting_ what good friends Cosma and Big Bull Demon are these days.”

“That… that… that Cob-forsaken oversized gecko!” Billiam exploded, turning from gold to a more molten, coppery color. “She sent me on this fool’s errand while she _knew_ the glorbs were right under Big Bull Demon’s fortress, just outside the suburbs!”

“Best place to raise kids, really,” Venomous offered. “Small Calf Demon is a wonderful boy.”

“How dare they make a fool of me!!”

“‘They,’ hmm… I wonder if _he_ knows about the glorbs,” Venomous oh-so-casually said to his nails. “Or maybe he’ll have… say, an _unfortunate accident_ soon, while you continue to provide a wonderful distraction with your library problem. A glorb mine is worth a lot of money, even for an oversized gecko.” Venomous was ready to toss as many wild conspiracy theories at him as would be needed to drive Billiam into a real bloodlust.

“She is going to pay for this,” Billiam raged. “They _both_ are! How dare they!”

“So,” Venomous hurried to interrupt him. “I’ll be expecting a hefty sum of gratitude, absolute discretion, and my maps and surveys back by this evening.” He got up. “You’ll be using your minebots after all, I’m sure. Ah, which reminds me,” he took the pack of patches out of his briefcase. “My colleague, Lord Boxman, sends his regards and this batch of patches for your minebots. They ought to prevent any unfortunate accidents in the future. And get your bots to, erm, close their, er… flaps. To be installed manually. Up their, erm, glorb storages.”

Billiam was too furious to do much else than nod and agree, waving one of his minions to get on it. Venomous left the patches and the briefcase with them and made to go. At the door, he paused and casually spoke over his shoulder, almost as an afterthought.

“Oh, and if I were you, I’d donate that land back to the library ASAP and move on. That ought to get all those heroes, reporters, and other assorted do-gooders off your back instantly.”

“Yes, perhaps that’s the best option. I’ve always said that you’re an astute villain, Professor,” Billaim said distractedly, finally looking up at him.

 _You have no idea_ , thought Venomous giddily as he modestly waved the compliment away and then slithered out of the other villain’s lair.

 _That’s what you get for calling_ my Boxy _names, you horrible little man._

\---

And thus, a while later, a small missile whizzed over the heads of startled heroes, catching them unawares as it flew into the library, slid on the floor under the automatic doors, and finally came to a halt in front of the librarians’ station. 

“What in Cob’s popping...”

It exploded. Confetti. _Everywhere_.

“...kernels,” librarian Shamrock spat a shiny pink piece of confetti. “And what’s that?” They pointed to a cylinder lying on the floor.

K.O. reacted first, and wriggled out of Carol’s protective grip to poke the cylinder with his foot. When it did not explode any further, he opened it and took a thick sheet of paper out.

“It’s a donation, I think,” he said, trying to decipher the heavy legal jargon.

“Who donates things by tying them to exploding missiles?” Shamrock asked, still wide-eyed.

“Villains, in my experience,” said Carol, reading over K.O.’s shoulder.

“Which one?” Rad stuck his head in the huddle, too.

“That’s Billiam’s signature!” Enid exclaimed and pointed to the bottom of the page. “And he’s donating...”

“THE LIBRARY LAND!!!” The heroes and librarian exclaimed together.

Shamrock almost fainted with relief, supported by an equally emotional Carol. Rad, with K.O. waving the donation paper while perched on his shoulders, ran out to give all the heroes the news. Enid followed, already typing on her phone a post for the FaceBox hero group.

“Wait, was it you who posted this to begin with?” Rad asked, while K.O. screamed the good news at the crowd from atop his shoulders.

“Maaaaaaybe,” Enid said, growing only a shade or two closer to her hair color. “What? I couldn’t let anyone get away with trying to demolish _the library_ , of all places!”

“Your secret is safe with me.” Rad winked and adjusted K.O. “And in case I haven’t mentioned it lately, I’m glad we work together.”

“Shucks,” said Enid, fumbling with the keyboard. “You know that means we’ll have to go back to boring work at the bodega, right?”

“Maybe. But for tonight, there will be A PARTY!” He shouted at the cheering heroes. “Who agrees with me!”

“Did someone say a party?” Carol appeared on the library stairs, too, grinning wide. “Let’s celebrate!”

“Yes!” Shamrock hopped in on the general enthusiasm, too. “And… and… I’m waving late fees for everyone! For the whole month!”

A hushed silence fell at that while the heroes assimilated the amnesty.

Then the cheer returned, twofold. It was a good, good day at Lakewood library.

\---

“Is it done then?” Boxman shouted across the factory floor, running to meet him at the door.

“Yessss! _Finally_! I saw him send his minions to get on it. They should be donating the land today, and he is hopping mad at Cosma and Big Bull De- Aaaah! What are you doing?!”

Venomous was being hauled up, squeezed, spun in a whirlpool of enthusiasm, and then effortlessly flung over Boxman’s broad shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Very small, light potatoes. He blushed and tried to wriggle so his traitorous crotch wouldn’t be pressed up against Boxman’s soft chest. Boxman only held him tighter, which caused further blushing.

“I’m taking you up to my room,” Boxman explained as if that _explained_ anything.

“L-like this? What will the kids think?” Venomous asked, not making any move at all to leave his wonderful position anymore. He was a big man, despite the slender frame, and nobody in his adult life had ever lifted him up like this, like he was… like he was… a _doll_ for Boxman to _play_ with.

_Oh Cob almighty, thou that art in the Heavenly Cornfield, deliver my mind from the gutter cos nothing else can at this point._

“All of them and Fink are either at the library or at the arcade across the square. Ernesto has my wallet, for what it’s worth.”

“Erm. So we have the whole place to ourselves?” Venomous asked carefully and very hopefully.

“That was the point.”

“And you’re carrying me up to your room,” he clarified.

“We’ll just stop by yours first, you have something we’ll need.”

“Oh. Ah.” Now Venomous was outright flustered. He had been hoping, really, and thinking about it - not to mention having interesting dreams about it - but that was all very sudden. “I- I don’t actually.”

“Huh?”

“I- I told you it’s been some time for me. Didn’t I? I must have. What with raising Fink and building death rays and making money and getting on Congresswoman’s nerves and...” he knew he was ranting but his mouth just wouldn’t _shut up_. “Well, what I’m saying is, I don’t have any, so if you don’t either, one of us will have to run to the drug store.”

Boxman paused on the stairs for a moment, mouthing “drug store?” Then he giggled.

“Oh, PV,” he patted his calf. “I was talking about the Laserblast tape, actually, but thanks for bringing _that_ up.”

Venomous hid his burning face in his hands, willing the fire in his cheeks to consume him completely, never to be seen again. 

He remained obediently limp on the rest of the trip up, only pointing with his foot at the tape on his nightstand when Boxman took him to his room to collect it. They also passed by his workshop, where he took some file with them. A couple of minutes later, he was deposited unexpectedly gently on Boxman’s own soft, nest-like bed that hosted a brood of pillows of all shapes and sizes.

The reason they had gone to Boxman’s room became clear when Venomous rolled and saw the huge screen that took a lot of the wall opposite the bed. Among the assortment of junk lying around the whole place, there were several machines and devices plugged into the screen. Apparently its owner used it for work quite a lot. Boxman took the tape and then fiddled with the folder.

“While I get this ancient VCR to play the tape, you can, erm, maybe read this.”

Venomous took the folder and then spent a couple of lovely minutes watching Boxman’s ample backside bounce from side to side as he tried to connect and turn on the old machine. Then he opened the folder and immediately retreated into his Dissociation Palace.

“Ernesto maaaay have given me your medical file. By mistake, I’m sure,” Boxman’s voice eventually reached him. He was sure the man was cutely poking his index fingers together. _If only I could look him in the eye._ “They have files on all biological forms, you know, in case of emergencies. So I thought it’s only fair if I gave you mine, in return.”

“I wasn’t aware the routine tests were quite. So. _Detailed_ ,” Venomous managed.

“Well, but at least now we know we’re both perfectly clean! That’s a good thing!” Boxman said cheerfully.

“I’m a biologist, Boxman, I _know_ how to protect myself,” he hissed.

Boxman looked at him skeptically.

“The snake DNA splicing thing wasn’t an accident. I did it on purpose,” he said sulkily. Then his fluster boiled over into frustration. “Why are we even having this conversation? Last time we talked you said there’s no place in your life for… for this sort of thing. That you needed time to decide.”

_Why, why do you have to push him, you old villain? Do you want him to say no?_

“Well maybe I’ve decided.”

Venomous’s eyes leapt to his and his heart was suddenly thudding in his chest. It had to be a yes, right? He wouldn’t be sitting in his bed and holding his medical file if it weren’t a yes, _right_? But why would he decide that? And so soon? Why would he… take a chance on someone like him? Knowing what he knew?

Boxman sat on the bed, facing him. He looked a bit thoughtful, but not particularly bothered. 

“I did need to think about it,” he said. “You gave me a lot of food for thought. Unloaded it on me with a dump truck, practically.” He grinned a bit and Venomous flinched and rubbed his neck with an apologetic look on his face.

“So, eh, just to make sure, I want to ask one last time… do you have any other big secrets to share?”

“No,” Venomous shook his head vehemently, “none I can think of.”

“Then we’re alright,” Boxman said happily and took his hand. “I can deal with the ones you told me.”

“Even with me being Laserblast?” Venomous couldn’t help frowning and looking away. “And with… how I left things off?”

“Well, I’m not gonna lie, PV, you were a bit of a jerk.” The gentle chiding burned Venomous’s guilty conscience like acid. “But you know what I found out?”

“What?” He risked a look at Boxman. He didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest.

“All I actually feel about it is that… well, I’m really glad you’re alive and happier than before.”

“Boxy...” the name escaped Venomous’s lips in a quiet breath of awe. Something bubbling in his chest almost choked him and he squeezed the taloned hand he was holding. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what he felt. His vision became blurry.

“Hey, now, PV, no need for that,” Boxman said softly and wriggled closer, untangling their fingers and putting an arm around his shoulders. His human hand rubbed Venomous’s stubbly cheek that was inexplicably wet. “Not that I’m an expert, but aren’t relationships meant to make you happier? To make things better? More fun?” He rubbed his other cheek, too. Also wet. “If you still want one, that is?”

“Yes,” Venomous said immediately, “ _always_.”

Boxman smiled at him and entwined their fingers in his lap.

“And you do make me happier,” Venomous breathed out, knowing that if he didn’t say it now, he just wouldn’t. “Being around you makes me feel a little more honest with myself, a little stronger, a little bit less... weighted by life. It feels so good, being with you. Only… it’s terrifying too, because it seems too good to be true. Better than I deserve. And sometimes I can’t help waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“Oh, PV...” said Boxman with a slightly trembling voice and gave him a kiss on the temple. It felt warm and amazing. 

“If it does, it does,” he added more firmly. “We’ll work on it, if we must. But come what may, things are good _now_ , and they’re even better with you here with me, and I’m sure we can keep them that way if we both try.”

Venomous looked at him and let the happiness he felt rising inside him manifest into a hopeful smile. They put their foreheads together.

“So, Lord Boxman, I hear you’re miraculously still single.” He allowed his smile to turn just a little bit wicked. “Would you allow me to become your other evil half?”

“Oh, absolutely, Professor Venomous,” Boxman said happily and kissed him.

It was the best kiss in the world. It was _Boxy’s kiss_ , after all.

_My Boxy._

“But we’re still watching that tape now!” Boxman said cheerfully as soon as the kiss ended. “I didn’t get the kids out of the house for nothing!”

“Oh. I thought you got them out so we could-” He bit his forked tongue and blushed. 

Boxman hopped out of bed and honest-to-Cob _strutted_ to the ancient VCR, shaking his… assets.

“Yeah, that too,” he tossed casually. Too casually to not be teasing. 

For the very first time, it occurred to Venomous that all the blushing and stuttering and sweating and cute finger-poking had not been because Boxman was shy or inexperienced - he was gorgeously self-confident now and was even turning the tables on him, making _him_ blush and stutter and make a fool of himself. No, Boxman had just always thought that he was _unwanted_ ; or at least not in the way he, apparently, miraculously, wanted Venomous. It made something in his chest squeeze for a moment.

But nevermind. That was already in the past. Venomous had his chance now, and he was going to show Boxman just how badly wanted he was. He grinned and his eyes darted to the medical file still next to him. He allowed himself to lounge on the bed, suddenly all giddy and light-headed. For once, life was _incredibly_ good.

\---

The tape was regretfully only half an hour long. Not that he particularly relished reliving his old days in POINT, but it gave him time to recover. Boxman was lying snuggled right next to him, remote in hand, both of them propped on a small mountain of pillows.

On the screen, Laserblast excitedly told the camera that he was going to organize a big party for Rippy’s birthday because it was a special number and because she was just so dang cute. Someone giggled behind the camera.

“Is that Silver Spark?”

“Yes. She got that camera with her first salary as a POINT member and liked to record stuff.”

“Naughty stuff too?” Boxman wriggled his eyebrows up at him. _Too cute._

“All of _those_ got deleted and recorded over,” he said and grinned. “I’m open to making new ones, though.”

“Professorrrr,” purred Boxman, who impossibly managed to snuggle even closer to him. He squeezed him tighter and they continued to watch.

Laserblast, quite helmetless and quite happy to be the center of attention, went about inviting people and making secret birthday arrangements seemingly without a care in the world.

“PV. You’re frowning,” said Boxman as he poked a taloned finger between his knotted eyebrows. He hadn’t realized he was.

“I was such a good actor,” he murmured. “Someone gave me the birthday party idea and I threw myself into it so eagerly because otherwise I was… well, to be honest, I was barely holding things together. I needed the distraction so very badly. And there I am, looking every bit the carefree hero.”

“Sorry,” said Boxman and rubbed the arm Venomous had around his shoulders. “I wish I’d known you needed a-”

“Don’t.” Venomous stuck his index finger on Boxman’s lips. “Don’t even think about it. I should have been helping you, not the other way round.”

“Alright,” said Boxman hesitantly when the finger left. “Past is in the past. We watch this tape and put it behind us, how about it?”

“Sounds perfect,” he sighed and watched his old self give a big hug to a still unsuspecting Rippy. They were rolling around on what looked like the tatami mats in the POINT gym and he gave her a smooch on the cheek.

“He-heh, you two look very close. You seem happy.”

“Rippy was… nice. She was the least political and least judgemental of all of them. Had a mind of her own.” He chuckled. “You know, for a while I was planning on asking Rippy out instead of Carol. I guess I never quite got over liking her.”

“Oh? So why didn’t you?”

“Well, Carol was more...” _star-struck_ “full of energy and enthusiastic about the world in general.” Venomous threw a meaningful look at Boxman. “I guess that’s something I like in a partner.”

Boxman maturely gave him the bleeeeh.

“Rippy eventually got a PhD in Physics. I almost ran into her at some conference. I think she saw me, but she didn’t recognize me. Life is weird that way.” He shrugged. “She’s the only one who got on with her life despite POINT, so I guess I was right when I thought she was the smartest one.”

“OhOhOh! You’re wearing a labcoat!” Boxman pointed excitedly at the screen. El Bow was with Laserblast in the lab.

_“A-are you cooking fireworks in the POINT lab?” He sounded shocked._

_“Hey, my specialty may be organic chemistry, but that doesn’t mean I can’t mix up some simple firework formula!” Laserblast wore a very Venomous-esque grin._

_“No, no, I mean the mayor forbade them!”_

_“She forbade the distribution and sale of fireworks, buddy. And I’m going to shoot them, not sell them. Big difference.”_

_“I’m sure that’s not how-”_

_“Oh, come on, big guy,” Laserblast draped himself on El Bow’s shoulder, causing him to instantly short-circuit. “It’s for Rippy’s special day! You can’t say no to making a teammate happy, and such a cute one at that! Right, Sparks?” He flashed a killer smile at the camera and winked._

Venomous facepalmed and Boxman cackled.

The rest of the tape was footage from the actual birthday party, with everyone’s wishes for Rippy. Laser was last and he wished her a PhD in Physics, a second degree in advanced linguistics and good luck in tidying her interdimensional pouch - or at least two out of three.

“Will you look at that? I nailed it,” said Venomous with a small smile.

“Well, that was it,” said Boxman when the tape finished and looked up at him, fiddling with the remote.

“Yep. So much trouble for such a small thing.” Venomous looked at him, too.

“Do you miss it? Any of it?”

“Not in the slightest,” he replied sincerely. “And you? You’re… very into villainy. Are you really fine with… your choice?”

“Of all the misbegotten heroes I could have fallen for, I picked the one who became you! I call that an excellent choice!” Boxman grinned.

“Alright,” Venomous said with relief. “So? We put all this behind us and never mention it, unless it comes back to bite us in the rattle?”

“Fine by me. But I don’t have one, you know. I only have a tiny bit of tail feathers,” Boxman said as he turned off the VCR and chucked the remote aside. Then he turned around to rummage for something on his nightstand.

“Oooh,” Venomous’s eyes target-locked on the aforementioned spot, conveniently turned towards him. “May I see?”

A book, of all things, smacked him lightly on the knuckles of his reaching grabby fingers.

“How about some light reading now, PV? Look what I got!”

“The Hero Who Wore a Codp- _Oh Cob’s mighty shank_ ” Venomous felt himself shrink and disappear into the mattress.

“Your lovely minion got them for us, fresh from the library! I guess it was her way of saying I have her blessing to get into your, er, codpiece!”

“ _Cod, I mean COB why_ ” Venomous found a blanket and started burrowing in it, face _burning_.

“Soooo you knew these existed, huh?”

“This is not… what I thought… we’d be doing in your bed…”

“They’re amazing! Such imagination! Such deviousness! Such amazing cheek! Both of them!” Boxman was grinning maniacally, watching Venomous sink deeper and deeper into the pillows.

“ _Burn them._ ”

“No! They’re good! Just listen to this! “ _It was a dark and stormy night, and the mysterious masked vigilante brooded shirtlessly on top of the-_ ”

Venomous was on top of him in one leap, pinning his wrists on the bed and kissing his mouth shut. The book dropped on the floor and lay there forgotten. 

...At least for the night.

\---

Fink watched the dancing, the multicolored lights and glowsticks blinking on in the falling darkness, and the cheerfully lit windows of the library where she and the bots had spent some time. The first stars were starting to come out, and the moon was, as always these days, a crescent. It was a wonderful evening, made even more so by Ernesto who was handing out ice cream to everyone - he had been entrusted with Boxman’s slim wallet inhabited by a small moth named Dusty. Despite the tight budget and the dubious company, Fink realized that she had actually enjoyed the day. Not that she would ever admit it to anyone.

“Sooo what do you think they’re doing?” Shannon asked eventually, lounging back on the bench they shared.

“I’d rather not think about it,” mumbled Darrell.

“Biological forms are rather strange,” Ernesto said philosophically. “But if it makes them happy...”

“I hope it sticks this time, whatever it is,” said Raymond. “Telenovelas are great and all, but I’d rather they didn’t happen right in my factory.”

“Mikayla.”

“Yes, father does seem a lot happier around the professor,” Shannon agreed, “so I wonder why they didn’t just… you know.”

“Yuck,” mumbled Fink with a passion. 

“I AM JETHRO!”

“Ok, so maybe I checked out some books for Boxbutt, so sue me,” Fink bristled. “He needed the push. And all our war councils did the trick, after all. But I still don’t know what Boss sees in him.”

“I’m sure he’ll grow on you,” Ernesto smiled with his eye.

“Yeah, like a big beautiful round glorb off its holy tree.” The night’s romance apparently had gotten to Raymond the most.

“More like a pimple, but if you say so,” Fink graciously conceded.

“OhOhOh look! They’re bringing in fireworks!” Darrell shouted excitedly and hopped on his feet.

“Yes!! Let’s go!” Shannon cheered. They all quickly polished off the last of their ice cream and trooped off to the middle of the city square, where fireworks were, indeed, being set up.

All was right in the Neutral Zone and in Boxmore once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic comment writing pro!tip 10:  
> Fic writers like to know what their story reminded you of. Have you ever had a memorable experience involving a library? I’d love to hear about it! Especially if it involved robotic cats, protests, being kicked out or a superpowered librarian!


	12. Epilogue: A modest library sale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Library sales are a thing! Check out your local library and see when there’s one. You can get great stuff at a discount!

It was Monday, and Librarian Shamrock, helped by Carol, arranged the various tapes, posters, books and other Laserblast and POINT-related materials in a big cardboard box.

“Are you really alright with getting rid of your personal mementos, too, Carol? Venny only mentioned the stuff belonging to the library, not donations.”

“Pfft, it’s fine. I should have gotten rid of them ages ago. I’m sure Gene will be happier without them lying around, too.” Carol smiled. “And you? Is it alright to give away library property?”

“Decommissioned stuff gets sold anyway, you know that. And with the library director being conveniently “on holiday” all this time and leaving me alone to deal with this… who’s to check what I decommission or sell?” They grinned just a bit wickedly.

“Is this all of them?” asked the delivery person who had been waiting at the counter.

“Yup! If I forgot anything, I’ll give it to Venny next time I see him. Are you sure you can’t tell us who this box is going to?”

“I’m sorry, librarian, company policy,” the person smiled apologetically, got their signature, and took the box away, to be delivered to Boxmore. “Have a good day! And congrats on the victory.”

Shamrock waved goodbye happily.

“Aaand that was that. I hope I never hear about POINT again. Eh, no offense meant, Carol.”

“None taken,” she laughed and then gave the librarian a sidelong glance. “But I gotta ask… is it true you told the Daily Heroic that you think your homeless guy was actually Laser?”

“WHAT.”

“Yes, according to the story they ran, he survived the donut shop incident and is still out there, doing good deeds and saving libraries. They said we had video proof.”

“I only said that I think Venny wasn’t really homeless and someone very powerful sent him! If anything, I was driving at someone from POINT!”

“He-heh, don’t worry, it’s not the first time.” Carol laughed. “Tabloids keep coming up with these stories how he’s actually alive and was seen standing in line at StarTechnos, or appearing as an extra in obscure movies, or being a good Samaritan beggar in Sunshine City, or, - and this is my favorite - flipping burgers in his hero getup at TacoBuzzer. The “Laser Is Alive” FaceBox page has like 10 000 followers!”

“Wow,” said a wide-eyed librarian. “Do you think it might be true?”

“Nah,” Carol waved it off. “Laser was a great hero, but… well. He couldn’t live without a spa thrice weekly, manny and peddy, T-Rex-feathered bed, designer clothes, three chef-cooked meals a day and the adoration of the masses. He wouldn’t last a day on the street.”

“I’m sure wherever he is now, he has all that, and more,” librarian Shamrock said supportively and rubbed Carol’s shoulder. She smiled at them and nodded.

\---

Professor Venomous, dressed in his usual designer clothes and finishing his Boxman-cooked brunch while basking in the adoration of the Boxmore robots and Fink, sneezed loudly.

“He-heh, I guess I may have pulled all the blankets to myself last night,” Boxman looked at him apologetically and poured him more hot tea, to a chorus of Ewww-s and Awww-s.

“Nah, I was kept quite, quite warm,” Venomous replied sweetly and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“Enough! Enough, Boss!” Fink hopped on the table and waved her arms between the two evil geniuses who were gazing adoringly at each other. “Here! Finish booking those spa retreats for all of us!”

She shoved his tablet in his face and he had no choice but to do so. Plus, that was what all the adoration had been all about, after all, so he’d better keep it up.

“There, done. And Boxman, you and I are going bed-shopping _today_. I saw a great discount on T-Rex-feather mattresses last week, hopefully it’s still on.”

“What? But I like my bed!”

“Ffffine,” he rolled his eyes. “The pillows and blankets can stay and we can put it in the exact same place, but that mattress. has. to. _Go_.”

“Oh. Alright. The things I do for you,” Boxman said magnanimously.

“Yessss.”

Someone had turned on the TV and Dynamite Watkins was reporting on the miraculous salvation of Lakewood Library. No reference was made to any mysterious benefactors, infiltrations, tapes or other shenanigans. Even Billiam was only mentioned as having donated the land back to the library. The story ended with some footage of the robots and Fink setting fire to and consequently exploding the whole box of fireworks that had been brought the previous night to celebrate.

“Good job, Fink, that’s a very artistic fireworks show.” Venomous patted his proud minion’s hair.

“Glad you had fun, children. Which reminds me, Ernesto, where's my wallet?”

“Oh, it’s in my room. Dusty got too excited by the fireworks and I left him to rest a bit today.”

“Dusty?” Whispered Venomous to an approvingly nodding Boxman. “Do you have any _more_ kids I don’t know about?”

“Dusty’s a moth.” Boxman explained nonchalantly. “On that note, I hope you’re paying for that new bed? Cos I have better chances of plucking the T-Rex myself than having enough cash for it.”

“Of course.” Then his expression fell somewhat. “Say Boxman… I know this might not be the best time, but I’ve been meaning to ask you… How did you get the money to rebuild your workshop? You know, back then?”

“Oh! Pfft,” Boxman waved. “Technically it belonged to my dear granny Jean, and she had it insured.”

“Granny?” It had never occurred to Venomous that Boxman could be anything but completely alone in the world, save for his robotic children.

“Yes, I have her picture in my office! Haven’t you seen it? They say I look the most like her of all her grandchildren,” Boxman said happily, a broad grin on his face, presumably at the thought of his dear granny.

“ _All_ her grandchildren?” Venomous felt like he was tumbling down a rabbit hole.

“Well yes! She has seventeen daughters, and most of them have at least a few kiddos!”

“Sev- wait, do _you_ have any siblings??”

“Only five sisters,” Boxman said casually. “Oh, PV, I can’t wait to take you to the next family reunion! It’ll be great! I don’t get along with all of my 128 cousins, of course, but the rest of them are great! And they usually bring the spouses, too, and the kids! Granny has only 57 great-grandkids so far, including these guys here, so we’re always guests of honor! Everyone will want to talk to you and dear little Fink! And give you a few pecks!”

Venomous’s soul had left his body somewhere around “128” and he just sat petrified, a future entirely too unspeakable playing on loop in his mind’s eye.

Fink poked her catatonic boss with a careful finger and glared at the robots who were barely containing their sniggering. So was Boxman, for that matter.

“You liar!” She pointed accusingly at him, and the whole Boxmore lot burst out laughing.

“B-Boxman!” Venomous grabbed him by the shoulders. “Tell me you’re pulling my leg!”

“Soooh...” he wheezed “Soooohrrey, PV...”

“Boxman!”

“Granny Jean is real and she did have the place insured. She also helped me fund my first factory.” Boxman held his hands up in a conciliatory gesture, still chuckling. “The rest was payback for being a jerk and disappearing after POINT kicked my butt.”

“I...” he thunked his head on the table and stayed there. “Alright, I deserved that.”

“There-there, PV,” said Boxman and rubbed his back soothingly. “But if I did have 128 cousins, I’m sure you would have charmed the pants off all of them. Now let’s go bed shopping, eh?”

\---

Somewhere beyond the suburbs of Lakewood, at Big Bull Demon’s castle, an entirely new set of drama was starting to unfold, but none of it was ever going to touch Boxmore because the armored briefcase and all its contents had been returned quite harmlessly back to the factory and were immediately stashed away under lock and key, just in case.

\---

And so it was that the same night, not even two weeks after he had moved into Boxmore, Professor Venomous found himself in his silky pajama, getting for the first time into the big bed that he now shared with Boxman. It was a bit terrifying, extremely exciting, and felt like the most _right_ thing he had done in his life.

“Hey Boxy,” he called out to the bathroom where the other man was still getting ready for bed. “I’ve been thinking about what you said, and you’re right.”

“Huh?” Boxman poked his head out for a moment, toothbrush in mouth. _So cute._

“You said that even if my past got found out, and even if I… if _we_ lost everything again, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.” At this point he had to raise his voice a bit over the sounds carrying from the bathroom. _Boxy and his timing_ , he thought fondly and smiled. “And I think you’re right. We’ve done it before and we can do it again. And it doesn’t matter who finds out what. Besides… I have money set aside for Fink, in case anything happens to me. Maybe we can set some aside for your children, too. What do you think?”

“Always up for free cash,” Boxman said as he finally finished and trotted to the bed. “But… how are you? I mean, it was a big week,” he added, getting under the covers.

“Never better, Boxy. You make me brave,” Venomous said and kissed his nose.

“I love you, PV.”

“Love you too, Boxy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! Thank you so much for reading so far! If you have any opportunity to do so, please support your local library in whatever form you can!
> 
> A round of applause for the amazing [anonymousEDward](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymousEDward/pseuds/anonymousEDward)! You're the best, and having my fic beta-ed by you was an honor, and a lot of fun, and probably the best fandom thing to happen to me! Thank you!
> 
> If you liked this story, you can leave a comment or check out my other fic that can be read as a continuation of sorts. It’s about PV and Boxy’s one-month anniversary: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21835108
> 
> Take care, everyone! Love you!


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